Worlds of Blue and White: With Fingertip Touching
by Croik
Summary: Right now the story focuses on Celena, and a mysterious young boy who seems oddly familiar to her....
1. Default Chapter Title

**Worlds of Blue and White**

Part One: With Fingertips Touching

Chapter One: Invitation

The air was dry and warm. It smelled of spring, of fresh rain and new grass. She could feel it, even within the confines of the city. It struggled against the smog and filth. For a while she was able to forget the bustling crowd far below--the rumble of car engines, the wordless murmurs of hundreds of wandering people.

At long last Hitomi sighed, taking her elbows off of the roof's railing. Though classes had ended, track practice would begin soon. Her love of the sport had merely increased over the past three years, and yet she often escaped to this place on the roof before practice. It was a place of calm, where she could set all her thoughts into the correct space. She was beginning to come to this place more frequently.

"Hitomi?"

She turned, and gave her friend a confident smile. "I'm fine, Mariko. Let's go to practice."

---

Van stepped back from the balcony with a sigh. "She's doing all right," he murmured to the sky, fitting a soft smile onto his lips. "She'll be all right. That's what matters."

Merle smiled at him sadly. "Uh-huh."

"I guess everyone's waiting for me."

"Uh-huh."

Van and Merle returned to the interior of the castle together. The court waited patiently for him to take his seat on the throne, as they were by now used to these short recesses. They knew that he needed them. At a young age Van had become an honorable, capable king, returning Fanelia nearly to its previous state. And though his companion Merle was the only one who could claim to understand him, they respected his need for privacy.

"Your Majesty," one of his advisors began once everyone had settled, "the aqueducts on the northern border have been completed and are functioning properly."

Van nodded in approval. "Good. And what about the south? The palisades?"

"Also completed. The city's nearly on its feet, thanks to you, Sire."

He acknowledged this praise only briefly. "And to the workers, of course. What else?"

Another advisor stepped forward. "As requested, an invitation was sent out to Asturia. They have yet to respond."

"Thank you." The king smiled nostalgically. _It will be good to see him again._ He settled into his throne, listening attentively as the daily reports continued.

---

Celena strode confidently into the center of the open field. Her left hand curled about the scabbard she held until her knuckles whitened. Once she'd reached her intended position, her grip loosened. Several deep breaths calmed and relaxed the rest of her muscles. She took only a moment to tie back her long, silver-blond hair away from her face. Slowly, she drew her sword. The soft hiss of the metal sent a shiver up her spine. She moved into a proper stance, each motion smooth and flawless yet with painstaking accuracy.

Allen Shezar watched from several meters away, his arms crossed and lips pursed, as his sister began the complex series of movements. Beside him, Gadeth whistled in appreciation of her nearly perfect form. "She's improved tremendously, hasn't she?" he remarked.

Allen nodded grimly. "Yes. It's almost alarming. The lessons I've taught her are the same as those Vargas taught me when I was her age. Sometimes even more advanced than that."

He hummed thoughtfully. "So, does that mean she's as good as you?"

"All she lacks is experience."

Celena paused, regaining her breath and wiping her palms on her brown trousers. When she noticed the two men watching her she waved, a gesture they returned. She smiled and adjusted her grip for the next exercise.

"You know, Boss, I can't help but wonder," spoke Gadeth after some time. "Do you think this was a good idea? Teaching Celena to fight and all."

"Honestly, I don't know." Allen's expression became troubled. "She hasn't shown any signs of having Dilandau's memories or personality, but…she's different than the Celena I knew as a child. I'm not sure if it's a result of the sorcerers or simply the time that's passed between us."

"Such as?"

He sighed through his nose. "As a child Celena was very shy, as I remember. I was the only one she trusted. Now she's become outgoing, and witty. She loves attention, and she still can't stand to be alone for very long."

"Sounds like an insecure teenager, if you ask me," Gadeth replied. "As I understand it, _you_ went through quite a few changes during your teenage years."

His comment managed to raise a smile to the knight's surface. "I suppose you're right."

"You are awful protective of her. It's just paranoia."

Allen nodded, his eyes growing distant. "But…there's no mistaking the style in which she fights," he said quietly, watching the reflections of light off of Celena's polished blade. "I fought…him…too many times to forget. And what's more, I can tell that she's still fighting beneath her full potential."

"Brother!" Celena ran up to them, waving and laughing. "Brother, did you see? Am I getting better? I think I'm ready for the next lesson."

"Not yet," Allen told her with gentle firmness. Despite all his misgivings, whenever she smiled at him that way, his fears were dissolved. Surely this was his Celena. "But soon."

Her wide blue eyes sparkled with excitement. "And the Guymelefs? When will I get to--"

"Not until you've finished your sword training," he interrupted, patting her shoulder. "Why don't you go through that last set once more, and then we'll spar."

"Alright." Grinning broadly, she turned and left to continue her training.

Gadeth scratched his chin and smirked. "You have to admit, though," he laughed, "that she's grown into quite a woman. She's got a terrific body."

"Gadeth!" Allen sputtered in exasperation.

"Sorry. You shouldn't be thinking about your sister that way, anyway. Well, I gotta check up on the boys--you know what they're like when they're by themselves."

"Of course." Allen crossed his arms. He suddenly began to scrutinize his old friend very closely.

Gadeth couldn't help but laugh. "Sorry Boss, but in case you haven't noticed, I'm not the only one who thinks so. But don't worry--she's a good girl, and _no one_ would try anything with the sister of Allen Shezar." He slapped his shoulder. "See ya later."

The knight's temperament didn't lighten. "Sure. Take care."

Gadeth moved away, and soon after Allen drew his sword to join his sister. She delightedly took up the proper stance. She attacked, and their swords clanged.

_Her strength has improved as well as her style_, Allen thought, parrying her blade. She spun and struck again with a force that sent a tremble through his arm. _I can't believe she's gained so much skill this quickly. When she regained her senses after the war, she didn't even remember how to hold a sword. But now_….

They locked swords again, but this time Allen's greater weight allowed him to force her easily back. Through some footwork that even he couldn't follow, she managed to keep from being toppled. They parted, circled, then met again. "Don't be in such a rush," Allen advised over their blades. "Concentrate. And don't leave yourself open."

He struck horizontally, catching Celena's weapon by the hilt and wrenching it from her grasp. It pinwheeled away and stuck into the earth.

Celena stared after the sword first in surprise, then dismay. Her breath slowed. "You win again."

Allen smiled. "Someday, you'll beat me," he told her with a laugh. "Now come on--you ought to be hungry."

"Not really." Celena retrieved her sword, and made careful work of cleaning the dirt from the blade. "I want to practice more, to perfect my style." She shot him an almost sinister look. "So you'll teach me the next lesson."

Though he responded to her comment with a chuckle, something in his chest tightened with her words. "If you say so. But I'm a knight with duties--you'll have to practice alone."

She paused, straightening visibly at those words. He knew it would be enough to convince her to return with him. But to his bewilderment, she turned a smile on him, and merely said, "Okay." She began her training once more.

Allen returned to the palace deep in thought. _Celena isn't just your little sister anymore,_ he repeatedly told himself. _Gadeth did have one good point--she's a woman now, and you can't keep_…_sheltering her the way you do._

He had never told her the truth. In the chaos of the final battles of the war three years ago, covering Dilandau's transformation was a simple matter. None of the soldiers had been close enough to tell certainly that what they saw exit the Oreades was not its original pilot. Thanks to Allen's quick thinking, a plan was formed: he wasted no time in leaving the battlefield with Celena in tow, instructing his crew to alert the soldiers that Dilandau Albatou was being taken into custody. Once back in Palas, Millerna and her father were advised of the situation, and spread word that the former Dragonslayer captain had been executed as a war criminal. Celena was then taken immediately to the Shezar household on Palas's outermost edge and kept in hiding for several weeks. During that time Allen made several trips to Zaibach with Asturia's diplomats. Soon, the story circulating was that he had discovered his sister being held as a slave in a small Zaibach household. 

And so, the truth was hidden without challenge or suspicion. Even more convenient was the state of Celena's mind: after the battle she spent nearly a week bedridden, suffering from fever and hallucinations. When the illness had run its course, she remembered nothing of Dilandau, the Dragonslayers, or the war. The last images still in her brain were that of Jajuka, caring for her in the Zaibach holding facility. Allen supplied the necessary lies to help her piece together her life once more.

He hadn't wanted to deceive her. But as weeks and then months slipped past without signs of Celena's alternate personality reappearing, his decision proved to be an acceptable one. As the only ones who knew of the truth were the Asturian royal family, Van, the crew of the _Crusade,_ and himself, there was little chance that the past would attempt to shade their present. It was best this way, to keep her from guilt.

Celena finally returned to the Shezar dwelling late that evening, her white top nearly soaked with sweat, her hands callused and blistered. "Dinne gave me this letter on the way in," she told her brother in his room. "It looks important." She held out the envelope--thick paper with gold trim that bore what appeared to be a royal seal.

"It's from Fanelia," Allen mused, breaking the wax. He removed a formally written letter and scanned its contents.

"Well?" Celena asked impatiently. "What is it?"

He frowned. "An invitation to Fanelia's capitol," he replied. "Apparently they're holding a festival for the rebirth of Fanelia."

"Really? When?"

"Two weeks from now," he read.

Celena leaned against his desk, crossing one slim leg over the other. "We'll attend, won't we? I haven't seen Van-sama in years."

Allen nodded vaguely, though his gaze was focused directly on his sister's eyes. There had been no shift in her manner when speaking the young king's name; he remembered a time when the boy's death was all that mattered to her, though not of her own will. He'd avoided reuniting the two since the war out of fear of that nearly instinctual grudge resurfacing.

"If you want to," he answered carefully. "It only takes a few hours to reach Fanelia by air."

"Of course I want to go. Van-sama's an old friend of yours, right? It'll be fun." She pushed away from the desk and took the letter out of his hand. "I'll respond right away."

"Wait." Allen carefully pried the paper out of her fingers. "I'll reply. There are some things I need to tell Van. I'll be sure to relay your enthusiasm," he added.

Celena gazed at him curiously and nodded. "All right. I'm exhausted, so I'm going to bed. Good night."

"Good night, Celena." Once she'd left the room he read through the letter once more, then prepared to respond.

* * *

Celena set her weapon on its cradle before collapsing onto her bed. She released her breath in a low sigh. "He still treats me like a child," she muttered, stretching her weary muscles.

Across the room, Misshel glanced up from the shirt he'd been mending. For the past year he'd been her personal attendant, and her best friend, having been orphaned as a child and needing the work. Celena had accepted him because of his gentle personality and boyish face. Allen had approved because he was the only male servant he could trust not to make an advance on her, due to his preferences. In any case, he was good company, and a willing listener.

"You mean Allen?" the red-head asked.

"Yes. Always Allen." Celena crossed her arms behind her head. "He's my brother, and I adore him--I really do--and they say I'm lucky he's teaching me to fight at all, but…." She scrunched her nose in disgust. "It's as if he's got me locked up in a birdcage or something."

Misshel coughed sharply into his hand. "Well, you can't really blame him. Having lost you for so long."

She heaved another sigh. "Not that _that's_ going to happen again." Abruptly she sat up and crossed her legs. "I'm not his little bird anymore. I can take care of myself. I want to meet people, and pilot Guymelefs in the competitions. I want to go out to those parties Princess Millerna invites us to. He's such a bore."

"He's a knight, not a courtier. What can you expect?" He lifted an eyebrow. "Besides, you always show him up at those parties."

Celena grinned at the hidden compliment. "It's not _my_ fault I have an exceptional singing voice," she giggled. "But seriously, if he tries to keep me locked up forever, I'll go crazy!"

"You know, Celena," Misshel chuckled, "I think you're a little crazy already."

She laughed, and said, "Thanks, kid. You always listen to me. I'm going to sleep now."

"Okay. G'night, lil' bird."

"Oh, stop it. Good night." She laid down on her stomach, and settled in for the night.

**Worlds of Blue and White**

Part One: With Fingertips Touching

Chapter 2: The Survivor

Celena pressed her hand excitedly against the glass of the _Crusade_'s cockpit. Far below, the forests bordering Fanelia's countryside spread like emerald clouds, gently rustling in the west wind. At the horizon the lush canopy met a sky of breathtaking blue. Not a blemish spotted the perfect expanse. She absorbed the trees and mountains with wide, eager eyes. "Gadeth, are there dragons down there?" she asked briskly.

"For the hundredth time, yes," he replied gruffly, leaning against the window beside her. "Why're ya so damn interested anyway?"

Celena shrugged. "I don't know. I've never seen one, but I want to. Even if Brother says they're ugly."

"I didn't say they were ugly," Allen corrected from beside the helm. "I said you'd probably be disappointed when you finally saw one."

"Isn't that the same?" She grinned at him, then continued her vigil.

Allen and Gadeth exchanged a look. The latter gave his boss a thumbs up sign to indicate that everything was fine, then started to chat with the girl about her sword training. She opened up to the topic immediately. Allen watched them thoughtfully for several minutes, his arms crossed. At long last Celena's delighted exclamation broke his repose.

"I can see it! That's the capitol, isn't it? Fanelia's capitol?"

Gadeth shielded his eyes against the window glare and looked for himself. "Sure is," he confirmed. "Looks like we'll be there in under an hour."

"I'm going to get ready. Don't land without me!" Celena skipped away from the window, giving her brother a pat on the back as she left. He shot her a dubious glance, and she giggled.

In her room, Celena changed quickly into the outfit Misshel had helped her pick out. It was a one piece, dark blue sun dress with a sleeveless top; it flowed like silk when she moved. The top was trimmed with silver, and fit her perfectly. "Thank you, Misshel," she whispered, slipping on the finishing touches: sandal-shoes with two inch heels, and a silver chain necklace. She looked herself over in the mirror, laughed, and left to rejoin the others.

--

"Announcing the guests from Asturia!"

Van straightened on his throne, repressing the urge to jump immediately to his feet. He shifted as the grand chamber's thick oak doors opened, revealing the travelers. Allen was in the lead, dressed in his usual knight's outfit, looking just as he had the last time they'd met--nearly two years previous. The crew of the _Crusade_ followed, gaping in awe at the remolded castle interior.

The King's attention was drawn swiftly to the figure on Allen's left: a teenage girl, dressed in elegant azure clothing with silvery-blond hair. Both colors worked to enhance the startlingly beautiful shade of her eyes. Van stumbled mentally over her identity. _Of course--it's Celena_. _Allen's sister_. He couldn't help but stare momentarily. _Who was really…my God, I had no idea she'd become this--_

"Van." Allen stood before the throne, grinning. "It's good to see you again."

"Allen. You too." Van descended the few steps to meet his guests. "You haven't changed a bit, and neither has your crew," he observed with a chuckle. He nodded to them as recognition. He paused at Celena. "But your sister is another matter."

Celena smiled prettily and offered her hand, which he killed respectfully. _It's still so hard to believe what she once was._ "It's good to finally see you, Van-sama," she greeted gracefully. "I've been looking forward to this."

"Likewise." He suppressed a bit of anxiety at her words that sounded so familiar through that voice. "Shall I give you all a tour? A lot has changed."

Allen and Celena accepted; Gadeth and his crew declined, all too eager to find a tavern and some drinks. "You were right about us," the knight joked once they'd been escorted out. "We haven't changed. But you, Van." He made a sweeping look of the king. "You've aged rather well. It seems that you've become a fine man."

Van paused, not expecting such praise. It made him feel proud, however, to receive a compliment from this man. "Thank you, Allen. I…appreciate it." Unconsciously he fingered the pendant around his neck. "But, anyway, how about that tour? We have some new melef designs I want you to see."

"Yes!" Celena exclaimed, nearly pouncing. "Please show us, Van-sama."

Van almost took a step back; Allen looked worried, and that was enough to raise his pulse a notch. The spark he'd seen in her eyes was a bit too familiar for his tastes. "Are you familiar with Guymelef designs?" he asked carefully.

She nodded eagerly. "I've been studying them, even though Brother won't let me pilot one. He wants his women to be demure and innocent."

"C-Celena," Allen sputtered.

Van blinked in surprise, then laughed. "She's developed quite an attitude, Allen. Shall we go?" When he looked into her eyes once more, he found them to be bright and curious. _There's no need to worry,_ some quiet voice told him from inside. _That's not bloodlust or hate. She's a teenager with the blood of an adventurer in her._ He took her by the hand, assuring his ancient comrade with a steady gaze. _She can't stay sheltered forever. I'll follow your example, Hitomi. I will trust her, so that we may one day forgive each other._

--

Celena allowed the king to lead her out to the Guymelef grounds. She had an odd feeling about him--his smell, his eyes, even his aura overpowered her excitement in seeing the majestic metal giants. His hand was callused and rough, like her own skin. She felt as if she knew each of those scars, deeply; they connected her to him.

_We met only three years ago,_ she pondered, _but he looks at me as if it's been longer. Like he knows me well--like he's expecting something._ Reflexively her hand tightened around his, which gained his quick, curious attention. _He knows something. He knows me_.

When they entered the Melef hanger, Celena forgot her repose. The structure was made of sturdy oak, towering above their heads in an impressive arch. Inside, both walls stretched for hundreds of meters, each lined with benches and ladders and scaffolding for repairing injured armors. Dust rose in spumes of gray cloud from the dry earth to filter about the feet of giants.

The sight of them stole Celena's breath away. They sat like kings upon thrones of iron, magnificent in their silence despite the bustling of their attendants. Lazy sunlight slid over their shining armaments, like honey dripping over moist lips. Further down the hanger sparks flew like fiery rainbows as the machines were welded and mended. Dozens of engineers mingled about, fixing and figure, and yet their looming masters remained still, and patient, waiting.

"Celena?" Allen's hand tightened briefly on her shoulder--she hadn't even noticed it there. "Are you all right?"

She shook herself, and nodded, gathering her wits. "Yes. Yes, Brother, I'm fine. It's just so…" She bit her lip. "…amazing."

"Most of the these aren't made for battle," Van explained as they wandered down the line of machines. "We learned from past mistakes--war creates war. So these have been modified for building, fielding, and other simple tasks." He gestured to each model as they passed. "We do have one clan of samurai who are allowed to use the battle Melefs, but we're very selective."

Allen nodded in thoughtful approval. "And Escaflowne?"

"Sleeping in the temple, as it should be." There was no regret in the king's face. "War and hate call the dragon. Someday, its strength will be needed. I hope to postpone that."

"Those are strong words, Van. It's good to see you've become so wise a king."

He smiled grimly. "In these times, I have no choice."

Celena let her gaze wander as the pair went on to discuss the modified Guymelefs. She wasn't interested in such mundane task--she wanted to see the melefs owned by the samurai. Those would surely be astounding.

Before then, however, her eye caught something: another pair of orbs that watched her. They belonged to a young mechanic, perched on the shoulder of a large harvest melef. He seemed to be only a few years past her own age, with almost black short hair and pale gray eyes sunk into a lean countenance. He was staring at her intensely. She stopped walking to stare back--her hands slipped out of Van's, and the pair of men went on without noticing.

The youth leapt off of the melef's shoulder to its outstretched hand, and from there to the ground. His movements struck her--she could tell that he'd been trained in some way. His slender body approached with clipped, militaristic precision. She liked him immediately, just by the look of him: well-kept, serious, and sharp.

When they were only a few feet away he stopped, abruptly, and straightened. He stared at her, half bewildered and half suspicious. When some time had passed and he said nothing, she asked, "What is it?"

He stiffened, as if expecting some severe punishment. "I'm sorry, Ma'am," he replied hastily. "You…look familiar to me, that's all."

"I hope that's a compliment," she chuckled.

"Well--well yes," the youth stammered awkwardly, betraying his flawlessly strict manner of standing. "You're…quite beautiful."

Celena blushed, and smiled coyly. "Really?" She extended her hand. "My name is Celena Shezar."

"Shezar?" His hand, which had been moving to meet hers, stopped abruptly. She took it upon herself to shake it in his momentary lapse. "As in Allen Shezar?"

"Yes," she said, beaming. "He's my brother. And you are?"

He carefully withdrew his hand, and licked his lips. "My name is--"

"Kert." Both started, surprised to find Van standing just beside them. His manner was rushed and uncomfortable. "Kert Simmons, one of our mechanics."

The boy sent his king a queer look, ready to protest, but then Allen intervened as well. "Come on, Celena. The samurai Guymelefs are just a bit further."

Celena glanced at her brother, then the boy, then back again. "All right. And don't worry--he didn't try anything," she added curtly.

"I didn't mean…." But by then she had already moved off. He shrugged and followed.

--

Jovey Garrelli watched with narrowed, scrutinizing eyes as the siblings continued on together. "Van, what was that?" he asked quietly. He spoke with far less courtesy than any of the other mechanics would have used when addressing their king. "Why did you lie about my name?"

The king sighed in relief, and muttered something under his breath that Jovey couldn't hear. "It's nothing important," he said. "It doesn't really concern you, but…." He hesitated before finishing. "I think it would be better if you stayed away from Celena Shezar. She hates Zaibach passionately, because of what they did to her. Besides, I'm sure Allen wouldn't approve."

Jovey's tone dropped. "I wasn't doing anything wrong. I just--"

"I know. But trust me, Jovey." Van looked him directly in the eye. "You don't want to be around her. I'd appreciate it if you stayed away from the castle while she's here."

"Are you saying that I'd--"

"I'm not implying anything," he assured. "Please, just trust me." He slapped the mechanic's shoulder, and Jovey pulled away. "You're dong good work. Keep it up." He left then to rejoin his friends.

Jovey glared at the king's back as he departed. He then looked past his caped form, focusing on the figure of the young woman. Her movements were as familiar to him as her face. Like a shadow she stayed in his mind long after the trio had escaped his sight. He lifted a hand to his face, as his jaw had begun to ache.

--

Late that night Van lay awake in bed. The night was warm--the stuffy heat worsened his present condition of insomnia. His mind spun. When the stress became unbearable he clutched at his pendant and focused his thoughts. Several deep breaths calmed him enough to work the magic. -_Hitomi?-_

He waited for a response. Soon he was comforted by a warm presence--a mind, tentatively reaching for him. It settled within him, expressing concern at his anxiety.

For the past three years they had communicated this way: through the pendant they spoke with their feelings, consoling and encouraging each other through difficult times. Van never knew whether she could hear him clearly or not--to him, she spoke only in flashes of emotion and color, without voice. He wished desperately that, just once, he could hear her again.

"I'm all right," Van spoke aloud to the ceiling. He turned his head to stare out his window, gazing at the beautiful blue moon that rested low in the sky. "Allen is here."

As he'd expected, her response was a mixture of joy, inquiry, and regret. "He's fine, too; he brought Celena this time. And…she met Jovey."

Hitomi's comprehension was instantaneous, and she projected her concern. Van sighed. "I don't think she recognized him at all, but…he almost recognized her, somehow." He rubbed his eyes. "Today I was wondering if it was right to hide the truth from her, and now I'm guilty of it."

_-Allen?-_

"Allen doesn't know about Jovey at all. I…didn't want him to worry."

_-Tell him-_

Van smiled grimly. "I thought you might say that," he murmured. "There might not be any better way. He should at least be aware."

_-You?-_

"I'm fine, really." His throat tightened, but he managed to hold the emotions in. "Celena doesn't remember Dilandau at all. Looking at her….Allen may be worried, but there's nothing wrong with Celena. She's just trying to live her life."

Hitomi's mind settled, and he could almost imagine her contented simile. She was proud of him, for trusting Celena so strongly, and being so compassionate. Her pride filled and nourished him. "Thank you," he whispered, his hand tightening around his pendant. "Goodnight, Hitomi."

_-Goodnight-_

_In the morning_, he thought deftly, _I'll tell Allen._

**Worlds of Blue and White**

Part One: With Fingertips Touching

Chapter 3: Sleeping Dog

Celena managed to wake, dress, and escape her room before Allen awoke. She held her breath the entire time. It was exhilarating, doing this against her brother's instructions: he'd told her not to return to the Melef Hanger without him, as it was dangerous and she'd be in the way. She had not forgotten those warnings--they were still with her, repeating over and over as she scampered down the corridor. The sound of them made her giggle.

The morning air was so still that it felt as if it were rippling around her when she moved. She reveled in the sensations of early fog covering her skin, and the silence-breaking tap of her shoes on the road-stones. She ran to the hanger as if chased, all the while suppressing peals of excited, mischievous laughter.

She was disobeying her brother.

As soon as Celena could see the hanger, the clang of metal and buzz of machinery reached her. It gave her a chill and urged her faster, until she was sprinting. _If I don't go fast enough, he'll catch me_, her mind reasoned irrationally. _He won't let me see them. Run. Run faster._

She burst into the hanger with a flourish and slowed, her body bending as she gasped for breath. Slowly, she regained her composure. Her gaze soaked in the image of the slumbering metal giants that surrounded her; they lifted her, strengthened her. And she laughed.

"Celena?"

Celena bolted upright, and nearly toppled, as she still felt light-headed after her long run. A hand steadied her shoulder--a slender, callused hands that was familiar to her. The man revealed himself to be the mechanic from the day before. "Are you all right?" he asked, allowed her to balanced off of him.

"Yes," she huffed, pressing a hand against her chest. She stepped away once her equilibrium had been replaced. "I'm fine. I was just…running." She dusted off her soft leather pants and blue vest. "Isn't it a little early to be working?"

"It's early to be running," he pointed out quietly, taking a step back of his own.

Celena chuckled, then coughed. She waved off any assistance. "I wanted to see the melefs before Brother woke up," she explained. "He wouldn't have let me."

"You like melefs?"

"Yes! But I've never ridden in one." She grinned suddenly. "Will you show me?"

Jovey looked her over carefully. She appeared genuinely interested, and excited. He wondered what it was in her blue eyes that caused Van to sense danger.

_"You don't want to be around her."_

"Sure, I'll show you." He led the way down the immense corridor, and Celena followed eagerly. "I suppose you want to see the battle melefs," he said vaguely, noting the healthy glow in her cheeks and eyes. "I can't let you ride one, so don't ask. But I can show you."

"Thank you."

The samurai's battle melefs were located at the back of the compound, sitting royally on their benches like the preserved corpses of dead kings. Jovey stopped before them. "Here." He pointed to each as he listed off their names. "Calberan, Dragonsbane, Fyodor, and Alseides."

"Alseides?" Celena frowned at the last melef in the row: a blue-gray armor with broad, rounded shoulders. "I thought all the Alseides models had been destroyed during the war."

"They were." Jovey dropped his gaze as he explained. "This one I designed and had built myself, in honor of…an old comrade." He glanced at the young woman beside him, and licked his lips. _It can't be. You're talking to a girl. Stop being foolish._

"Are you really Allen Shezar's sister?" he asked abruptly, turning on her. She recoiled--not in fear, but only mild surprise. "My name is Jovey Garrelli--Van lied to you yesterday."

"What are you talking about?" Celena demanded in bewilderment. "Of course I'm Allen's sister--Celena Shezar. And why would Van lie? You're just a mechanic."

Jovey gulped; he could feel his pulse racing through his temples, and fought hard to keep himself calm. "I'm not," he said, his voice rising. "I was a Zaibach officer--a Dragonslayer."

He held his breath, waiting, but Celena didn't react. She only stared at him inquisitively. He suddenly began to feel very foolish, expecting this woman--a Shezar--to remember him and the Dragonslayers. No matter how much she resembled his former leader, it was impossible. Dilandau Albatou was dead.

_He's dead. Calm down--you're just confusing her._

Jovey relaxed; he sighed, and lowered his shoulders. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, glancing away. "You're…you're no the person I'm talking to."

Celena cocked her head to the side with innocent curiosity. "Who _were_ you talking to?"

"It's not important now. Come on." Jovey started toward the guymelef bench. "I'll give you a better look."

Celena readily complied, allowing him to help her limb the scaffolding. Soon they were resting on the armor's thick round shoulders. Jovey began to explain the designs he'd created, and was pleasantly surprised when his company interjected with sensible comments. She claimed to have been studying guymelefs for the past three years--her knowledge was testimony to that boast. She spoke like an expert.

As the morning lengthened, several more mechanics appeared to service the different melefs. Celena didn't seem to notice; she saw only the metal beast upon which they sat. Several times she expressed her wish to pilot it, and each time Jovey refused with a smile brighter than the last. He appreciated the childlike wonder in her face and tone, remembering days past when he had obsessed over the iron giants. She had a rare gleam that attracted him; sincere, deep respect for the vessel. He hadn't seen such homage for a long time.

"Do you think I'll pilot one someday?" Celena asked idly, her fingers sliding over the metal."

"Of course. You look like you were born in one."

She laughed at that, which raised an old feeling inside him. "Maybe," she conceded. "Brother's the same way--he loves it, and he's an expert." She sighed wistfully. "I wish I could have my own."

"Someday, I'll build you one," he replied.

"Really?"

"Certainly." Jovey grinned--genuinely, which was somewhat unusual for him. Listening to her talk like this made him feel oddly calm, as if things had suddenly become as they were meant to be. "What kind would you like?"

"An Alseides," Celena replied immediately. "Like this one." She patted it affectionately. "So I can prove to brother that I'm good enough."

"He really bothers you, doesn't he?"

She shook her head emphatically. "It's not that I don't appreciate him. I'm doing this for him--I don't want him to feel like I'll always need his protection." She averted her eyes guiltily. "I've always caused him pain. I'm a burden to him, and I don't want to be."

Jovey flinched, his lips parting to draw a sharp breath. Her words echoed in him through a different voice. _"I don't ever want to be a liability to him. I'll work hard, so that he'll never have to worry about me again."_

He started to speak, but just then they were interrupted by a call from below. He scowled when he saw the source--Allen Shezar. The blond knight was glaring at him; his gaze softened when it transferred to Celena. "Celena, come down."

Celena ducked her head sheepishly. "Thanks for everything, Jovey," she whispered. "I gotta go."

"I understand," he replied with a nod. "Go on. He's your brother."

She smiled gratefully and began to descend from the Alseides. Jovey watched her all the way down, and as Allen chided her for sneaking away without telling him. He also scolded her for things he couldn't hear. _He doesn't understand her feelings,_ he thought to himself, frowning deeply. Below, Allen led his sister away with a hand on her shoulder. _He can't see. He's only making her suffer more. If he really loves her, he should see that._

Jovey slipped off of the melefs shoulder and onto the wooden scaffolding. "Time to work," he murmured to himself.

* * *

It wasn't until late that evening that Celena managed to escape her brother's watchful eye once more. The sun had just begun to set, melting as it met the burning red horizon. She breathed in the scent of it through the breeze. It reminded her of the sparks in the melef hanger, healing the iron gods. And before long she was there, running past the feet of the harvesters and builders, on her way to meet royalty.

A pleasant surprise awaited her: Jovey Garrelli was perched on the kneecap of his Alseides, polishing the metal. He glanced over his shoulder as she approached. "I knew you'd come," he said matter-of-factly.

Celena pressed her hand to the armor's leg. "Really? How?"

"Because I think I understand you." He looked her straight in the eye when he spoke--she liked that, because it meant he respected her. "I knew you wouldn't let your brother stop you."

"You make it sound like he's a slaver," she complained.

"Isn't he?"

Celena began to climb the scaffolding to reach him. "No," she protested sharply. "He's the best older brother I could have. He's just…protective."

Jovey chuckled, which sounded odd to her. She hadn't said anything amusing. "What's so funny?"

"They way you're defending him," he explained, pausing in his work. "Making excuses for him as if it doesn't matter to you."

She frowned. "It doesn't. Really."

This only widened his grin. "You can't fool me; I used to do the same thing." For the first time in their short conversation he escaped meeting her eyes. "When you care about someone deeply, you'll defend them even when you know they're wrong. There's nothing the matter with it, really."

Celena watched him very closely; she pressed a hand to her stomach, where a strange feeling had begun to grow. It was almost pain. She wondered if anyone had ever defended her by lying--if anyone cared or her that much. Allen had never made excuses for her. He kept her so protected that there was never a need to.

"Tell me," she instructed, snatching his arm. He flinched at the sudden touch, and almost recoiled. "Tell me about that person--the person you care about."

Jovey regarded her as if she were some dangerous animal that had suddenly pounced on him. His breath was held and his eyes wide--his reaction only increased her desire to know. She wanted to understand the person who had inspired so much devotion, perhaps even love, in this man. But more than that, she wanted to know if it was something she could have. 

"Alright," Jovey said hoarsely. "I'll tell you.. Come on." He began to climb higher up the guymelef, and she followed, holding her breath. They stopped once they reached the Alseides's thick shoulders. From that height they could see the entire hanger stretched out before them like a valley.

Jovey situated himself comfortably on the machine. "I told you I was from Zaibach, right?" he began hesitantly. She could tell that this was a story he hadn't shared in some time. "I was member of a special group called the Dragonslayers, and it was our job to hunt Escaflowne."

Celena hummed thoughtfully. "Brother mentioned that Zaibach was after Escaflowne," she said. "But he never mentioned 'Dragonslayers.'" _He told you to stay away from this man_, her brain added. _He told you Jovey couldn't be trusted, because he's from Zaibach. But Jovey doesn't seem like that at all. How many things has Brother kept secret from me--or lied about?_

"There were only fifteen of us," Jovey continued. His intense eyes never left her face, as if awaiting some reaction. "Including our leader, Dilandau Albatou."

He paused. Celena waited for him to go on, but he didn't. _Does he think I know that name? It sounds familiar, a little. But from where?_ She wracked her memories, and ground her teeth in frustration when she came up with nothing. "That's the one you meant, right?" she said, hoping he'd continue and give some clue. "You really respected him."

He nodded in a rueful, haunted way. "He was expert guymelef pilot--maybe the best in Zaibach. No, surely." His expression hardened. "Van was the only one who ever beat him; not even your brother, Allen Shezar, ever bested him in combat. He was ruthless, commanding the fear and respect of every officer and opponent beneath him. Not even General Aldephos would dare cross him."

Celena's hand tightened around the fabric of her dress, as it had begun to tremble. "What did he look like?" she asked breathlessly, as her brain scrambled to form an image.

Jovey hesitated again. "He was pretty young when I knew him--pale and slightly built, but he knew how to throw his weight around when he had to. Actually…." He licked his lips. "He had silver-blond hair, like yours, and red eyes. You reminded me of him the first time I saw you."

She laughed nervously, relieving some of the tension in her gut. "I could never be someone like that," she said brightly. "He sounds amazing."

"He was." The youth's eyes gleamed with an emotion she didn't recognize; it might have been fear. Her pulse began to rise once more. "He was vicious and obsessive--terrifying, really. He enjoyed the pain of others. It got him into trouble--he wasn't perfect, and he made many obvious errors, but--"

Celena felt the impact resonate down the bones in her arm, and the skin on he palm began to tingle. She watched, dumbfounded, as Jovey's head turned sharply to the side; only his quick reflexes kept him from tumbling off the Alseides's broad shoulder. She stared at him in shock, then looked to her hand.

She's struck him. Now that the even had passed she no longer remembered, but the evidence was clear. Quickly she confined both hands to her lap. "I--I'm sorry," she stammered, appalled at her own actions. "I didn't mean--forgive me."

Jovey didn't face her. He sat with one hand steadying him on their metal perch, the other cradling his head. His soft black hair hid whatever expression there might have been. She could barely bear him breathing. Slowly, dreadfully, he turned to face her.

Celena's heart leapt into her throat and there held, suspended by the look in his eyes. Within him she saw shock, recognition, and even hope, like swirls of violent color etched into his skin. She could feel him reaching for her, not with flesh but a longing. Even more terrifying was that something insider her desired to respond--to scream, to laugh, to curse and cry like a mad child. Because he was reaching into her more deeply than anyone every had, even deeper than the awesome presence of the guymelefs. He was tugging at her heart.

Celena jerked away as Jovey touched her arm. "Don't," she pleaded in a hoarse, desperate whisper. "Don't touch me."

Jovey recoiled. By now his brain was overflowing--he knew those sensations. He remembered the punishment that came without warning, the sting of flesh on flesh, and the shame that followed. He knew that pain as a scar that rested inside of him. "Celena," he said just as breathlessly. "You…you can't be--"

"Shut up!" She withdrew once more, wrapping her trembling self in her arms. If he touched her--if he even tried--she could feel her body waiting to retaliate. "Please, just…" She leapt to her feet and escaped toward the scaffolding.

"Wait! Celena!" He reached, but by then she had already moved out of range. She clamored down the crude ladders and he followed, faint from shock.

_God…oh God, can it be him?_

Celena hit the ground running. Her pursuer landed a moment later and gave chase. The dust rose in spumes around his feet as they pounded the earth. Already his legs ached, having worked all day in the hanger, but still he pushed his speed to its limits. He saw only the silver-haired, slightly-built figure slowly falling away from him.

_Please, let me reach him this time--_

Someone had left a tool out. Jovey yelped in surprise as his boot was snagged and yanked out from underneath him. His stomach lurched into his throat as he began to fall, and the world tilted crazily. The impact came next, stabbing nails of pain into his hands and arms. His breath was suspended, and he lay there in the dirt, gasping and coughing. Blood seeped down his palms and elbows. His skull was pounding.

Jovey groaned as he pushed himself slowly into a sitting position. And then in a flash of realization he scanned the interior of the hanger, searching for the form he'd been chasing.

The hanger was empty--she had gone, leaving only a few particles of swirling dust in her wake. They glittered like tiny golden fireflies reflecting the last ray of sunset light.

* * *

Celena sprinted all the way back to her room in the castle. Voices chased her. They whispered in her ears, their ghost-lips so real to her that she could feel their breath against her lobes. Her hands struck out in a wild attempt to drive them away. They would not be so easily deterred, however; the hoarse tones tore at her skin and hair, and she shrieked, trying to block out the awful sound.

They heavy oak door to her room yielded to her pounding fists, smacking with a percussion that frightened her into a sob. She covered her mouth and bolted inside. Once the door was slammed shut she threw herself onto the bed, shaking like a small child with the pillow to catch her tears.

_Something's wrong with me._ Celena bit into the cotton-filled fabric to ease her sobs, even as her shoulders crept up and her insides throbbed. _What's happening to me?_

A firm, comforting hand stroked her back. She jumped, startled, but wouldn't lift herself to face the man it belonged to. She knew who it was by the scent of his cologne. That morning she was willing to do anything to disobey him; now she felt only shame.

Several quiet minutes passed that way; she cried softly into her sheets, as Allen gently massaged her shoulders and back. He did not shun or admonish, or eve question, even if he desperately wanted to know. She felt foolish for having ever doubted him.

"Brother." With gradually returning strength she pushed herself up, swinging her legs over the de of the bed. Allen, free of his knightly uniform, sat patiently beside her. For the first time in her memory she couldn't bare to look him in the face. "I'm sorry," she told him quietly. "I think you were right. I should have stayed away from Jovey."

He didn't speak for some time; when he did, his tone was stern but concerned. "What happened?"

"He didn't do anything," Celena quickly defended him. "We were just talking, and I got a funny feeling in my stomach." Her hand covered her abdomen, as that feeling had returned with the memory. "And I hit him! I didn't want to--it just happened. And his eyes…." She shuddered. "The frightened me, so I ran away."

Allen's hand rested on her shoulder. "You're all right now," he assured, despite the stiffness in his fingers. "I'm sure he wouldn't have hurt you."

She nodded gloomily. "No, he wouldn't. But the way he looks at me…like he's expecting something…" She turned and flung her arms around him suddenly; she had always depended on him this way, to give her strength when she had none. "Don't go anywhere," she begged, clutching his shirt. "Don't leave me alone, brother. I was so scared."

Allen held her tenderly, his fingers sliding through her hair. "Don't worry, Celena," he whispered. "I won't let anything hurt you." There was a pause. "Now, I'm not going to tell you--"

"I know." Celena closed her eyes and leaned her head against his chest. And even though the words caught in her throat, she pushed them through. "I won't go see Jovey again."

He didn't reply, which she was grateful for. Instead he laid her down on the bed, pulling the covers over her. She held them to her tightly. "Go to sleep," he said gently. "You'll feel better in the morning, and we can talk some more."

"Thank you, Brother." She smiled faintly with gratitude. "Good night."

Allen patted her head affectionately. "Goodnight, Celena. I'll be here, so don't worry."


	2. Default Chapter Title

(note: from here on in it gets a little more graphic, violence wise)

**Worlds of Blue and White**

Part One: With Fingertips Touching

Chapter 4: Visions of Blood

Jovey winced only a bit as he slipped his hands into a bucked of cold water. Very carefully he cleaned the blood and dirt from his lacerated flesh. He watched the water swirl about them to concentrate on something other than the sting. With numbing fingers he rolled his sleeves to his elbows, so that his forearms could also be cleaned. All the while he scowled at his foolishness.

_I'm such an idiot,_ Jovey berated himself over and over. _What was I thinking? Celena…Dilandau-sama? I must be losing my mind again._

He worked his jaw, remembering the feel of her blow. The force behind it alone testified to his delusion--most men couldn't slap hard enough to fell a former Dragonslayer. But when her hand touched his skin, he'd felt his muscles go slack, as if numbed by the water he used now. He had allowed his body to turn, exaggerating the damage she'd done. It was instinct.

Jovey dug his thumb into his palm--the pain forced him to regain some sense. "It's impossible," he told himself deftly. "Simply impossible."

The door swung open suddenly, without warning. Jovey quickly straightened. Standing in the doorway was Allen Shezar. Though casually dressed, the sword at his hip and his piecing, blue eyes portended his ill temperament. _Shit. What did Celena tell him?_ Though he had always been confident in his skills as a fighter, now he was in no mood or condition to face any kind of accusation from Allen Shezar.

Jovey forced himself to nod respectfully. "Allen Shezar. Can I help you?"

"What I have to say will be brief." Allen didn't move, which perhaps was more frightening than if he'd entered the room. "I want you to stay away from my sister."

He paused. If Celena had told her brother the truth--he didn't think her capable of lying to him--then Allen should have known he'd done nothing wrong. "Either you're obsessively possessive," he murmured without thinking, "or you're hiding something."

Allen's posture straightened, and his expression hardened. His hand slid menacingly to his sword hilt. "She's my sister. If you go near her again, you'll be punished."

"You don't frighten me." Still soaking in the bucket, Jovey's fingers curled into fists. _He's serious. God, what have I gotten myself into? I should just back down. It's not worth fighting a Caeli Knight for god's sake!_

"In fact, I never came near your damn sister," he continued, hating himself for every word. "_She_ came to _me_. She _asked_ me to tell her about Zaibach. So to Hell with both of your for all I care!" He lifted his hands, displaying the raw, damaged flesh. "See? She's nothing but trouble for me. I don't _want_ to go near her."

Allen regarded the youth with a fixed, cold glare; his hand remained on his sword. "Fine," he nearly growled once he'd been made sure of the youth's sincerity. "But this is the only warning I'll give you. If I find her with you again, you'll regret it."

"You didn't _find_ her this time," he retorted bitterly. "You probably should keep a better eye on her."

The knight nearly drew his sword at that remark, but he managed to restrain himself. His eyes gleamed dangerously in the dimming light. For that instant Jovey stood transfixed, genuinely frightened by the harsh, wrathful glare. Without a word Allen departed; his boots made only the slightest of noises as he strode swiftly away.

Jovey sank into the nearest chair, though even then he didn't release the breath he was holding. He stared down at his hands, watching the fingers curl. "Damn it all." With a sigh of disgust he reached for the bandages he'd set out earlier.

*****

"Sir, we're approaching the city."

Celena opened her eyes slowly, revealing a complex mechanical scenery that she didn't recognize. She stared, bewildered at the gears and devices that surrounded her. An acrid, bitter odor pervaded upon her delicate senses. _Where am I?_ Past the iron face grate she could see the outline of a valley, nestled among forested mountains. Tiny homes rested there. _Fanelia? But it looks different._

"Sir?"

_Where is that voice coming from?_ She turned to look, and was startled when the metal structure beneath her twisted in response. _I'm in a guymelef!_ she realized, and she nearly laughed out loud. She felt a chill; her muscles flexed, testing how well the armor would copy her movements. To her delight each replication was perfect. _I can't believe it. Finally._

"Sir, is there something wrong with the Alseides?"

"No, nothing." Celena grinned, trying to calm her excitement. _Now let's see. That's right: the city._ She turned her attention forward once more, focusing on the peaceful kingdom below. "Let's go." With a deep breath she started down the path to Fanelia.

The Alseides followed her instructions exactly. _This is great! I must be dreaming. Not only a melef, but an Alseides!_ The gates to Fanelia grew larger as she approached. And as she got closer, a strange feeling came over her--she didn't like Fanelia. It was a small, crowded country filled with weak-minded peasants. That same bitter smell filled her nostrils, like something burning. It caused her insides to twist and dance excitedly.

_Gates can't stop melefs._

Celena lifted her hand--slowly, methodically--and pointed at the immense wooden gates. _Go away,_ she commanded. _I want to test the strength Brother wouldn't let me have._

From the Alseides's hand spewed several claws of gleaming metal. They struck the guard tower, shredding it like fine paper. She felt a thrill as the gates were then sliced and destroyed with only the slightest effort.

Celena stepped inside. Already she could see the soldiers gathering about her feet like tiny ants, their voices lifting in confused babble. _They can't see you_, something told her, watching as they desperately searched the area for signs of their attacker. And she laughed, scorning them. _You can't stop me._

The men scattered as she started toward them--she didn't even bother to see their fate. She didn't care. There was something more important that she had to find. She could feel it, lying in wait within the city, or perhaps even within herself. It paced back and forth in her stomach like a restless, angry beast. It clawed madly against her ribs; its fangs poisoned her blood with its insanity.

"Burn everything!" The words leapt like laughter from her throat. "Don't leave anything!" _Brother will scold me if he knows._

Somewhere to Celena's right a building erupted into flames. She stopped, mesmerized by the sight of it. The fire snapped and roared, growing and changing. Its beauty entranced her. _That's right. Burn--burn everything. It was meant to be burned._

Celena lifted her hand once more, and by her will the wooden structure ahead of her was quickly reduced to smoldering ash. The sight of the destruction she'd created caused her body to quake with an excited, perverse pleasure. With a laugh she turned her weapon on the building next to it.

Several more stores and homes were incinerated. One after another they toppled, melted, and trampled beneath her pounding feet. Her claws ripped wood, steel, and flesh with ease; she reveled in her newfound power. Her laughter spilled over the red earth like a poison.

*****

Celena did not jolt from these dreams as one might a nightmare. She slipped from them calmly, as if stepping out of a quiet bath and into a warm room. Even her heart lay still and content. Her limbs were comfortably sore, though from what she couldn't imagine.

Her gaze sought the ceiling--her sight wavered, as if clouded by steam. She rubbed her eyes to clear the mild impediment. _What happened? I was dreaming? Of melefs?_ She replayed the images in her mind, and frowned only slightly. _How…odd. I wonder if that really was Fanelia we destroyed._ Celena pondered the dream for some time, tugging gently on the ends of her hair. _I guess that's the only chance I'll ever get in a melef._

And suddenly Celena realized what was happening to her. She had been dreaming of Fanelia's destruction--a bloody, terrifying act. For the sake of her entertainment hundreds--perhaps thousands--of innocent people had given their lives.

She didn't care. She felt no guilt for having envisioned so heinous a sin, nor for enjoying it at the same time. She had laughed at their pain, and savored the odor of burning corpses. No shame accompanied the memory of these actions; not even shame at having felt no shame. It was pleasure and satisfaction and hunger, and there was no remorse.

Celena pushed herself out of bed and moved slowly to the window. She wanted the cool air to clean her; not of her discomfort, but of her joy. Had she felt the slightest nausea in her gut she would have rejoiced the evidence of her humanity. But she felt none at her deeds, which in itself frightened her deeply.

Celena turned, as the sight of Fanelia's kingdom outside the window brought her pain. Away from that view her focus fell upon her sword that lay in a rack near the wall, bearing the Shezar family crest. _Brother fights all the time,_ she told herself. _But has he ever felt this way? _Her fingertips covered her lips, remembering how easily they had given birth to curses. _Did he ever…enjoy killing? Like I just did?_

She shook her head. _No, he'd never. Brother is the greatest knight in the world--he'd never kill for fun. He's got integrity and compassion._

Celena left the room; she couldn't stand to remain there, in the place of her sacrilege. She didn't know where to go or who to turn to. For a moment her thoughts drifted to Jovey, but that idea was quickly banished. _Talking to him started this, _she reasoned bitterly. _I can't see him again. It'll only make it worse._

* * *

Van sighed deeply as he made his way toward the palace balcony. Another sleepless night had guided him to this wandering, with Merle at his side. "I can't help it," he confided in her as they walked. "I get restless this time of night. You don't have to come."

"I don't like you being out in the cold by yourself," Merle replied cheerfully. "You can catch cold in the summer, too, ya know."

He chuckled. "I know, Merle. I just--"

Van stopped at the entrance to the balcony, as they weren't the first to reach it. Celena was leaning against the marble rail, still dressed in her clothes from the day before. Her silver hair hung limply down her back. The king and his friend exchanged a glance. Gathering his courage, he stepped forward. "Celena?"

Celena jumped, startled by his call. She didn't look back. "Hello, Van-sama."

Van joined her at the railing, and took a careful not of her face. Merle sat at his feet. "Are you all right?"

Celena didn't answer for some time. "I just couldn't sleep."

"Same for me." He noticed that her gaze was very focused--she was trying not to look at him. "Is something wrong? Am I making you uncomfortable?" he asked.

Her hands tightened around the railing. After a short, internal debate she said, "Can I speak to you in private?"

Merle glowered at her suspiciously. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Merle." Van sent her a steady, serious gaze. _Someday I'll tell you. Please, understand._

Merle read the expression in his eyes and sighed. "Good night, Van-sama." With a warning glance over her shoulder at the offending blade, she scampered off.

Van turned to face the young woman. "What's the matter?" he asked, trying to keep his tone even. Despite his own desire to trust, knowing that Celena wasn't well made him wary.

"It's…well, you used to fight a lot, right?" she asked, still facing forward. She gulped.

Unsure of the direction she was going, he answered, "Yes. A lot." He sighed deeply. _Some of my best and worst memories._

Celena fidgeted. "I had a dream," she confessed at last. "About fighting in a guymelef."

_Shit. Does this mean…_. Van managed to contain his anxiety enough to ask, "Why does that bother you?"

"I liked it!" She whirled on him, finally showing the extent of her own apprehension. Her blue eyes were wide and close t panic. "I was killing and killing…and laughing…" She grasped his hand tightly. "Van-sama, tell me you once felt the same," she begged. "It's…it's not so wrong to enjoy fighting, is it? To want to fight…."

Van could only stare, his breath held. He could see in her face that she was serious. Thankfully, there wasn't the same glinting bloodlust he remembered from Dilandau--she was afraid. That might have been his--their--best chance.

_Allen, you shouldn't have kept this from her. But…I can't be the one to tell her. The best I can do is…comfort her? How?_

He licked his lips, and covered her hand with both of his. "Celena," he began quietly, hiding his insecurities, "I'm going to be very honest with you. And I want you to listen to what I have to say very carefully."

Celena nodded eagerly, her eyelashes splashing heavy tears. With each passing moment he felt his misgivings drain away; he had been right in first believing in her. She didn't want to be Dilandau.

"I have fought." Though the memories caused him grief, they would help her--it was for such purposes that he kept them. "And there was a time that I was consumed by it. For a long time I could think of nothing but avenging my country."

The young woman winced just barely, allowing him some insight into what her dream must have been about. _I thought it might have been Fanelia. But now…I have no will left to hate her for it. Hitomi, give me your strength._ "It was my everything. And I know it's everything to your brother, too. Now, I don't know what your dream was, or what you really felt, but fighting shouldn't be pleasure. It can be exhilarating, and refreshing, and necessary." He pushed the words through. "But fighting to kill because you like it is wrong. Samurai and knights and even bounty hunters fight out of necessity, sometimes even entertainment, and it's all right to live that way without shame, but…."

Celena's body grew limp, visibly so. Before he could react she fell against him; he hastened to support her. "Van-sama, I…" She clutched him desperately. "But I felt those things. I…I don't know what to do." Her tears slid down his neck, and he started, unsure how to help her. "I can't talk to Brother. He'll think I'm awful."

"No, he won't," Van said quickly. "Allen will understand. As a knight, he's been through hard times. You have to trust him."

"But what will he say?" she insisted. "He's a Knight of Heaven--he's never hated anyone. But…in that dream…." She choked on a quiet sob. "I hated everyone. I hated this country, these people--all people. I hated you for ruling them, and Brother for keeping me from--"

Celena halted suddenly, and pushed away from the king. She wrapped herself with trembling arms. Van was overcome then with a profound sense of pity for this delicate girl. She was suffering, and he could do nothing to ease that pain. _Hitomi, tell me what to do. How can I help her?_

"Van-sama." Celena raised her gaze to him imploringly. "Can't you tell me what's wrong with me? Whatever it is…can't I know?" Her arms tightened. "The way Jovey looked at me, expecting something--it's the same way you and even Brother look at me. What do you expect of me?" Her voice rose shrilly. "What am I?"

"Celena…." Van bit his lip, struggling between responses. _I don't want her to suffer. It would be better if she never knew, right?_

"There's nothing wrong with you, Celena," he answered strongly, praying it was the right decision. He placed a hand on her shoulder and held her eyes. "You're just going through a difficult time. Having one frightening dream doesn't make you a bad person--your brother will understand." He smiled faintly. "Thank you for trust me, but I can't give you much advice. Just…" _What did she used to say?_ "…you have to be true to your real feelings, and honestly believe in yourself. If you do that, you'll be all right. And we're all willing to help," he added.

Celena nodded, seemingly somewhat convinced by his short speech. "Thank you."

"Come on. I'll take you back."

"No, I'm fine." Thought she could not bring herself to return his smile, she wiped her tears and gathered herself up. "I want to stay out here a while longer, if that's okay."

"Sure." Van sighed through his nose as she turned back to the railing. _I guess…I just have to trust her._ After a silent prayer he left the balcony and continued his wanderings.

**Worlds of Blue and White**

Part One: With Fingertips Touching

Chapter 5:Stained

Celena spent the next day in the castle, exercising every possible excuse to travel the maze-like halls and visit each room several times.She even volunteered her help to the servants—anything to keep her mind occupied.She laughed and joked with those people she met, as if assuring herself that the malice she'd felt towards them was nothing more than her brain's wild concoction.She studied the faces and buildings she saw, imagining all the love and spirit dedicated to each.She celebrated the life they portrayed.

Only once did her ill ease return.It was only a flash, but it terrified her with its intensity.She had paid a visit to the court in hopes of thanking Van; when their eyes met, her stomach lurched.For an instant his face changed, from the young king to that of a scaled, gruesome beast.His eyes burned like magma imbedde3d in a twisted skull, and fangs gleamed from within his malevolent grin.The sight of him caused her flesh to crawl.But more than that, she felt a profound sense of disgust for the creature before her: it was ugly, and grotesque, and pitiful.She hated it.And in the span of those brief moments she trembled with fury.She imagined her sword dislodging his scales, and tearing into his filthy hide.She wanted to see his blood fill this damned, hellish pit of a city to overflowing.

_What's happening to me?_

--

In the afternoon, Van met with Allen and Gadeth in his chambers and relayed what he'd witnessed."There's no mistaking it," he said quietly."The look she gave me just before running away—it was Dilandau.Her eyes were dangerous." He sighed."I'd hoped it wouldn't' come to this.I trust Celena.But…Dilandau, I don't."

Allen closed his eyes and folded his arms over his chest.For a moment his face was stricken with a pained expression."God, can this really be happening?If Celena…."

"Our beset chance of saving Celena is that she's afraid of what's happening to her.She might be able to resist the change."

Gadeth scratched his stubble beard thoughtfully."Isn't there anyone left who would know what they did to her?" he asked."The sorcerers, I mean."

Van pursed his lips."I have heard of several that defected from Zaibach after the war," he murmured."They're living in Balsm now, I believe."

Allen turned a desperate gaze on the young king."Can they be reached?If we knew what they did to her…."

His crew comrade nodded."The _Crusade_ can carry a message there in no time."

"No.I'd rather we take her there, and not wait."His tone dropped grimly."I think it would be best if we took her out of Fanelia—Jovey, Van, ever this country are having an effect on her.I don't want to risk her safety or anyone else's.

Van folded his hands and set them on the table, staring at them solemnly."I understand, and I agree.I'd…hoped this wouldn't happen, but I can't risk anything."

"Then it's settled."Allen rose from his seat with the wary movements of an old man."Gadeth, alert the crew that we'll be leaving as soon as _Crusade_ is ready.I'll prepare Celena."He paused."Van, I'm sorry to leave you like this, as the festival begins tonight.But I suspect you'll have enough to worry you without this."

The king nodded slowly."Yes.Take good care of her, Allen.I'll send a message ahead to tell them you're coming."

Allen and Gadeth left together."Is it me," the latter asked thoughtfully, "or does he seem a lot older now?"

"Yes, he does.I suppose we've all aged."Allen released a deep breath."It's times like these that I miss Hitomi, as well.Perhaps she would have been ale to help."

Gadeth smiled ironically."Looks to me that our king friend was thinking the same."Then they split up to attend to their separate tasks.

--

It was if the world had gone silent.Celena drew her knees in close to her chest and listened, seated on her unmade bed.She could hear nothing outside the small window, even as her eyes confirmed the hundreds of bustling, excited citizens.They were preparing for the festival that night which she had all but forgotten about.Their laughter just barely tickled the insides of her ears, like remnants of a strange and unsettling dream.She gazed listlessly at their activities without registering anything.To her they were as ghosts, pale and silent, drifting through smoldering debris.

Celena released her heavy breath through a dejected sigh, and his her face in her knees._I hate this.I hate myself.Where is it coming from?What's happened to me?_Her shoulders raised, even as she refused to cry._Brother, Van-sama, Jovey, even Gadeth—they seem to know why but they won't tell me.Why?Why do I feel so helpless?It all happened so suddenly._

Three days ago she remembered eating dinner with her brother.It had followed a long day of packing for their trip, and the quiet privacy of their meal together had been a welcomed relaxation.Her mouth watered a bit as she imagined the taste of the carefully prepared vegetables and tender meat.Afterwards, her brother had stared at her long and thoughtful across the table.With his hands folded delicately and blue eyes shining sincerely, he spoke to her.He told her that he was proud of her skill, her intelligence, and her looks.And he'd sworn, as he'd done a dozen times before, to protect her forever.

At the time Celena had smiled, and thanked him graciously as she always did; his short speech was nothing new.As an older brother he was practically required to compliment her, and as a knight he was obligated to protect her—facts she often took for granted.She missed those bright, serious eyes now.She wanted to share in some of the purity he kept about himself—justice, elegance, compassion, and integrity.But then, she felt as if she had somehow become dirtied, and to even want such things was a sacrilege against what they stood for.

Celena lifted her head once more, attempting to console herself in some way.There was no use in this self-pity—she had to confront and understand this problem, somehow.What possible reason could she have to hate Fanelia, and its king, who had been her brother's acquaintance for years?What reason could _anyone_ have?It was a beautiful country with mountains, valleys, sparkling rivers—

--and mountains of burning, rotting—

Celena hid her face this time in her hands, trying to force the dream images out of her mind."No, stop it," she hissed fiercely, and several tears leaked from her tightly pressed eyelids."Leave me alone.I'm not like this.I'm not a murderer."

_"…enjoyed pain of others…"_

Celena stopped, and carefully wiped her eyes.She glanced about her, but the room was empty.Several long moments passed before she realized that the voice had been a memory.She frowned, whispering the phase to herself.

_"…vicious…obsessive…"_

She transferred her gaze to the window, hoping to lose herself in the movement of the people.One of the figures captured her attention immediately—a man with short black hair was moving through the crowd.Her stomach twisted."Jovey…."

_"…ruthless, commanding…"_

"Jovey knows," she heard her lips form, staring at his back as it slowly weaved through the waves of happy townsfolk."Maybe he…."

_"I think I understand you."_

Celena leapt off her bed and bolted for the door.Already she felt faint with hope that he—someone—could help her.She disappeared down the corridor used by the servants just as Allen turned the corner at the hall's opposite end.

--

Jovey rested his pair of polished swords against a nearby tree.He had journeyed into the forest, alone, to escape the cheerful clatter of festival preparations.The celebrations were not only for the resurrection of Fanelia, but the defeat of Zaibach, and he had no intention of participating.It wasn't patriotism that spurred this annual protest—he couldn't claim to understand.But even if he had no love or sympathy fro his former country, he couldn't consider praising the deaths of his comrades.

More importantly, he knew that any festivities would be presided over by King Van and—most likely—his guests from Asturia.After the night before, Allen Shezar was the last person he wanted to meet.

Jovey stretched his arms and legs, preparing for a work out; from here he would be able to hear the sounds of celebration, the thought of which warming his blood.Exercise was the best way to deal with the complicated, swirling emotions.He finished stretching and proceeded to change the bandages on his hands.

_Celena…what am I going to do about her?_ he wondered as he applied a stinging medicine to the slowly healing cuts and bruises._Why did she react that way?Maybe…she's a relative of Dilandau-sama?_He frowned._But she didn't even recognize his name.It didn't even look like _she_ knew why she hit me._

Jovey retrieved his swords and, after a few testing swings, began the workout._I've gotten stronger._He managed to complete the entire series of moves without the blades touching once._And better.But then, it'll be a lot different in the Alseides._

He'd just begun the second sequence when he detected the sound of someone running towards him.He lowered his swords and looked to the surrounding trees."Who's there?" he called."I'm armed."

Celena burst out of the woods a moment later and staggered to a halt.She gasped for breath after what must have been a long run.Jovey bit his lip and forced himself not to speak.She hand come for a reason—she would have to share it before he made assumptions.

Once Celena had calmed her breath somewhat, she managed to straighten and look him in the eye.That contact lasted only a moment."I need to talk to you," she said slowly, deliberately.

Jovey felt the grips on his swords relaxing.Again her exercised his restraint._She looks so lost, so helpless.She's trying to hide it—I know that look.Damnit, I know that look!_"So what is it?" he asked calmly.

She came closer, forcing strength into her legs with each stride."I…I want to hear more about Dilandau Albatou."He could have sworn that his heart stopped."You said you were a Dragonslayer, but they're gone now, aren't they?Where is he?What happened to him?"

"Celena…."Jovey took a deep breath, trying to calm his turbulent emotions."Why?Are you looking for another excuse to hit me?"

"No!No, I didn't…."Celena looked away guiltily, wringing her hands."I'm sorry, I just—"

"No, it's alright," he said quickly."I didn't mean it like…but really, why are you so interested?"He returned his swords to the tree and motioned for her to take a seat beside him.

She did so hesitantly.She appeared very unsure, and he wondered what had happened to bring her to this state.The last time they'd spoken she'd been bright, confident, and spirited._She must have been really upset.No wonder Allen was so angry.But why?_

"What you said…"Celena began quietly."It frightened me, somehow.And lately…."She shook her head as if to clear something from it."Please, just talk.I have to understand him."

Jovey shifted uncomfortably; he wanted to demand an explanation, to settle these doubts, but he respected her, and frightening her would do nothing."I'm not sure what to say," he admitted."I don't…I don't really know what happened to him."

"You must know something," she implored."A man like that…vicious…what happens to people like that?"

He licked his lips, frowned intensely, and finally gave in."I…was at the battle against Duke Freid at the Fortuna Temple," he began slowly.She nodded in comprehension.He stumbled a bit over the words, caught up in all the pain, anger, and sorrow of those past days."I was injured badly."He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled down the collar enough for her to see a long, white scar running from his left shoulder to his navel.He quickly hid it once more."I was unconscious for several days, and when I woke up…they were gone."

Celena flinched just barely, her lips pressing.Jovey wasn't sure how to interpret that, so he went on."They told me--my superiors--that the Dragonslayers had been killed by Van, and that Dilandau-sama had fallen ill and was in Zaibach.I left our ship and went to the capitol to search for him.

"I never found him.By the time I had reached Zaibach and begun my search, I learned he'd already returned to duty.I wanted to follow him."He ground his teeth and clenched his fists."I would have fought and died at his side, like the others, had I the chance.But…my wound became infected, and I fell ill."Gradually, he released his tension through a dejected sigh."I learned afterwards that he had died in the last battle of the war.The Oreades he piloted had been dismantled by Asturia--not even his body was left.

"And then I came here.I had intended to kill Van, but...he defeated me."In Jovey's mind, the clashing of their blades and wills still echoed.He scowled."He said he wouldn't take my life, because now we were even.We had already destroyed each other's most precious possessions."

--

Celena stared at Jovey, her eyes wide and mystified."You…loved Dilandau that much?" she asked, repeating his story over in her head."To die with him, even though he was a murderer and a villain?Why?"

"I can't explain why."He looked as distraught as she felt."We were terrified of him, and yet…we cared more for his safety than our own.More than the families we left behind.I never realized how important he was to me until after…."

Jovey trailed off and fell silent.Celena bit her lip painfully._They loved him that much, even though they feared him.He was willing to give his life to Van to avenge him._She stared at the youth's downcast eyes; he had been ready to die, and perhaps still was._Is that why he's still training out here?To fight Van someday?_

Jovey still hadn't spoken, and she fidgeted, unsure of whether she should disturb him._Tell him what's happening to you, _her brain whispered._If he can forgive Dilandau, he can forgive you for simply thinking, can't he?If anything, maybe he knows what causes a person to…to think the way you have been._

"Jovey…."Celena licked her lips, gaining a bit of courage back as he turned his attention on her.He looked oddly hopeful."I had a dream that I was burning Fanelia."

Jovey started visibly, and she looked away to avoid meeting any reaction that followed."I was in a guymelef," she rushed on."An Alseides.We were invisible, and we charged through the gates and destroyed everything.Everything was burning…."She heard him inhale, preparing to speak, and cut him off."And today, when I saw Van-sama, I…I got so angry for no reason.It was more than hatred--I felt like a mad dog."

His hand snapped around her wrist, and she jerked back, startled.She was, however, unable to free herself.

"You said 'we,'" said Jovey in a low, harsh whisper.His hand was trembling as he held her."Who else?How many?"

"Other guymelefs."She kept her head turned away."Invisible Alseideses, I think.Five--maybe six of us."Tentatively, she glanced at him.

Jovey's face had become an almost deathly pale--his eyes were gaping, lips parted without taking air.The expression of shock caused her stomach to twist and cramp."Stop looking at me like that," she pleaded, trying to draw away.

But he took her other hand and held her still."Celena, those are Dilandau-sama's memories."She stared at him, utterly bewildered."He burned Fanelia in a red Alseides--him, and fiver other Dragonslayers.Gatti, Chesta, Dallet--"

"Stop it!"Celena fought against him, trying to escape.She felt as if she were falling a great distance, with wind-shrieks tearing at her ears and hair.Something wet touched her cheeks and slid down her chin.His words, his hands burrowed inside her like maggots, knowing on the lining of her organs; it was as if her heart were bleeding through chewed-out holes, washing her bones in hot blood.

"Celena, listen to me," Jovey continued, his voice rising like the fury inside her.He, too, had reached some bizarre precipice, showing through his wild eyes.He dragged her closer, even as she struggled and cried."They've done something to you, and you're not the same person anymore.You have to wake up!Remember who you are!"

Celena choked on a sob, still pulling against him futilely.Her face had begun to sting, then burn along the tracks of her tears.Suddenly an image entered her brain, and she wailed, "Jajuka, help me!"She lost her strength as the pain in her abdomen flared and expanded."Jajuka!Jajuka…."

--

He hadn't meant to go this far.He could see that he was hurting her, but he couldn't stop.His breath came in short gasps, and his pulse was racing._I was right.It is him--I know it is._"Dilandau-sama--"

_"Get away!"_Celena twisted suddenly, and the point of her heel caught Jovey's unprotected stomach.He instant released her; she retreated like a wounded animal.Coughing and sputtering, he rubbed his bruised torso and cursed softly.But when he looked up, he stopped, in every sense.

Celena huddled childlike among the roots of a nearby oak tree.Her hands gripped her shoulders, quaking, and her forehead pressed the heavy trunk.Sounds of pain--sobs mixed with coughing and groaning--dribbled from her raw throat.Jovey watched expectantly, waiting.His teeth bit through his lip.

At long last Celena's shaking lessened, as did her voice.Jovey was confused to see that her vest was stretched tightly across her back, as if it had suddenly become too small for her.The fact that the muscles in her arms and shoulders had changed somewhat was also slow to register in his mind.Her breath had deepened.

Jovey crawled slowly forward, resting a hand on her shoulder."Celena…?"

Her head turned, tainting his sight with red.

**Worlds of Blue and White**

Part One: With Fingertips Touching

Chapter 6:Reversion

As soon as Allen exited the guymelef hanger he encountered Gadeth."She's not in there," he said evenly, not halting in his pace as he started back toward the castle.

Gadeth fell into step beside him."You're pretty calm considering she ran off," he remarked."Or are you about to kill something?"

"I'm all right."Though the words sounded truthful, they came a bit too quickly."This isn't the first time Celena's snuck out without telling me--she's a responsible girl who's always acted independently.I trust her."

"But…."

Allen sighed."But yes, I'm still worried.She could be any number of places, with any number of people.It's not her I don't trust--it's what might happen."His expression deepened."And the melef overseer says that Jovey didn't report today.I don't trust _him_."

They returned to the castle and found Van, who was busy preparing for the festival that night.The maids were scurrying about like bees."I have some guards looking for her," Van assured the knight as his hair was combed and arranged."Did you check the hanger?"

"Yes, and she's not there," Allen replied with worry."Jovey isn't, either.Do you think he knows about her?"

"Hmm."Van looked thoughtful for a moment, then suddenly declared, "That's right.Jovey always leaves on festival days.I know where he is."He stood and abandoned the maids, who hurried after him with concerned murmurs.He ignored them, retrieving a piece of paper and drawing ink."He'll probably be here," he explained, quickly sketching Fanelia's border and the location of a small grove."The place he and I fought.He goes there every year.There's no telling if Celena's with him, though."

Allen frowned."I have a feeling she is," he muttered, tucking the crude map into his shirtfront."Thank you, Van.Don't worry about us at all."Signaling to Gadeth, he turned and quickly strode out of the room once more.

--

Jovey was staring at Dilandau Albatou.

He rubbed his eyes, convinced that he was dreaming and that the form of his leader would soon vanish--or, at least return to Celena's image.But his sight proved to be no lie. Huddled before him was a tall, slender teenage boy, his hair grew and skin pale, accented by his bright red eyes and a strip of fresh blood down his right cheek.

_It's him.It's really him.How--why--what happened?_"Dilan--"

The boy turned suddenly away from him and vomited.Jovey averted his eyes respectfully, unsure as to whether or not he should offer assistance.He felt dizzy and unstable, even as he was sitting.When his leader's nausea seemed to have ended he asked, "Dilandau-sama, are you all right?"

"Dilandau…sama…?"Dilandau wiped his mouth and turned away from his mess--Jovey was startled to see traces of blood on his lips.The albino fell onto his rear and leaned his back against the tree, eyes closed.He sighed and rubbed his stomach.

Jovey crept closer hesitantly."Dilandau-sama?" he asked again diffidently.His every instinct indicated that he should bow, and he fought that impulse with some difficulty."Can you hear me?"

Dilandau's eyelids opened lazily."Who's there?"His gaze appeared to absorb nothing, like those of a weary blind man."Where…?"

"It's Jovey Garrelli," he replied, even as his voice was trembling.When the boy didn't respond, he added, "A Dragonslayer, sir, under your command."

"Dragonslayer…" the white-haired teen murmured distantly."Dragon…slayers.Dragon."Gradually, his eyes began to focus.But they didn't look at Jovey; they were cast to the distant form of Fanelia's capital city."Dragons…."

_Something's wrong.God, what did they do to him?_"Do you remember what happened?"

Dilandau's body seemed unnaturally still; if it weren't for the gentle rise and fall of his chest, he would have appeared a corpse.His skin's pallor testified to this."I…remember."He fell silent for a moment before resuming quietly. "Fire.Blue fire.And Blood."At last he turned his head to face the anxious youth at his side."Jovey.Where are our Dragonslayers?The Dragon is alive, and I need them."

Jovey sighed--relieved that he was regaining some sense, regretful of the news he must share."They're dead," he replied, subdued."Don't you remember how they died?After the battle at Fortuna Temple."

Dilandau didn't respond, and when Jovey looked again he saw that his eyes were closed."Dilandau-sama?"_He…fell asleep?_He sighed, dragging a hand over his own face._Damnit, what am I supposed to do?_Asleep, Dilandau looked as he always had--still as death."What did they do to you?" he whispered heart-sickly."Why would they do this--making you his sister?Mocking you this way…."His expression hardened into pained wrath. "Not any more," he promised."I won't let them.We'll go back to Zaibach, and get help from the Sorcerers.I won't let them use you."

Dilandau slept on, oblivious to the oath he'd made.Nearly half an hour passed, and Jovey was beginning to consider searching for food, when he heard the sound of a horse approaching--several horses._Damn.If that's Allen looking for his sister…_.He shook his leader urgently without success in waking him."Dilandau-sama, please wake up.We have to--"

It was already too late; three horses broke through the trees, with Allen in the lead followed by two scruffy men he didn't recognize.There was no time to attempt an escape.The Dragonslayer instead rose to his feet to meet this challenge, swords in hand.

"Celena!"Allen took in the sight of his sister, curled among the tree roots, Jovey's disheveled appearance, and the pool of bloodied vomit nearby.In an instant he dismounted and aimed his sword at the youth's throat."What have you done, you bastard?"

The knight's tone was so uncharacteristically low that Jovey stepped back; even his own men looked startled.Jovey quickly rallied his courage."I didn't do anything," he retorted hotly.He batted Allen's sword away with his own."And I won't let you near him!"

Allen's gaze quickly snapped in shock to the huddled form, looking it over more carefully.His face twisted into a look of horror."D…Dilandau…but that means…."He pounced on the youth like a beast; their swords locked."What the hell have you done?" he demanded."How did this happen?"

Jovey struggled to keep the knight's weapon at bay."Don't you know what's been happening to your own _sister_?" he sneered."He's remembered who he really is."He grinned despite himself."The leader of the Dragonslayers."

"Damn fool."Allen used his superior weight to force his opponent against a nearby tree."Dilandau isn't real.He was created by the sorcerers as a mask for my sister!"

"Don't you dare mock him!"Jovey forced all his strength into his right hand, freeing one of his blades and slashing at the older man's shoulder.He danced out of reach long before it hit.

Allen took up a new stance."I'm telling you the truth," he insisted angrily."Celena--my sister--was kidnapped by sorcerers, and--"

"Shut up!"Their blades clashed, passing blows back and forth until meeting in another standstill."What the hell do you know?" he hissed over their crossed weapons."You don't know Dilandau-sama at all!"Again he managed to maneuver one sword free and drive Allen back.

Allen paused before attacking again.His gaze shifted constantly between his enemy and the still slumbering Dilandau."Jovey, please listen to what I'm saying.This Dilandau--" he pointed with his sword "--the Dilandau you know--wasn't meant to exist.He was a false personality created to be a murderer.As one of his own, you should have realized that there was something wrong with him."

Jovey felt his grip on his swords growing slack; as they began to fall he regained some sense, and took hold of them once more."No…you're wrong," he whispered.He watched as Allen lowered his own weapon and started toward Dilandau.His voice rose to a yell."You're wrong, you _son of a whore_!"

The Knight turned upon him as soon as the words had penetrated his ears; he barely had time to defend against the attack.In a flurry of blurred metal Jovey's left sword was wrenched from his grasp.He continued to fight without pause, dodging each vicious strike.For a moment he caught his opponent's eyes, and the malice held in them gave him a chill._He'll kill me if I'm not careful._He blocked another strike and tried to kick; Allen avoided without effort and, as if to mock him, fired a kick of his own.This caught Jovey in the gut, throwing him on his back.Before he could vault to his feet once more, that same boot slammed heavily into his chest.Another smashed down on his right wrist, forcing him to release his sword as he cried out in pain.

"I've had enough of you," he captor growled, poking the tip of his sword into the base of the youth's throat."You'll be taken into custody, and--"

"Shut up!You don't understand."Jovey coughed, suffering under the restriction to his lungs.He was dizzy from the earth's blow to his skull--he spoke defiantly anyway."We loved Dilandau-sama--all of us.He needed us to protect him, and every one of them did, up until the end.He…he must be real."He felt as if his eyes were burning._A mask…it's not true.It can't be true.I won't let it be true!_

"Gatti, Chesta, Dallet Migel, Guimel, Viole--they were his brothers, and mine," he continued, and the burning sensation overflowed onto his skin."I won't let you erase what they fought and died for!"

Jovey snatched the sword pointed at him and pushed with all his strength, driving it into the shin of Allen's boot.He was thankful then for the knight's dutiful attention to his belongings; the expertly sharpened blade sliced through the boot's soft leather and tasted flesh.Startled by the suddenness of the attack, Allen lurched backwards, and the youth used that time to reclaim his weapon and charge.His opponent guarded well despite the injury; however, he was no longer able to use his weight as an advantage, as his foot couldn't be trusted with added stress.The pair exchanged the positions of offense and defense several times before breaking apart.

Jovey wiped the sweat and tears from his face.He was beginning to tire--it was taking all his strength and every one of his tricks just to keep up with the Heaven Knight, and he had gained no ground.The injured leg was not proving as hindering an injury as he'd hoped._There has to be something I can do_, he thought, trying to remain calm._Is there anything he can't block?_

Allen adjusted his position to make up for his leg.A moment later he advanced.Jovey blocked the initial strike and several that followed before making a move of his own: he lashed out with his foot, catching Allen's wounded shin.Only a sharp gasp escaped his lips as a reaction to the pain.

The Dragonslayer took full advantage of the short pause.His sword hilt to the inside of Allen's wrist disarmed him quickly.But Jovey wasn't interested in killing him; he followed this assault with a fierce uppercut that nearly felled the older man.

_As I thought.He can't fight without a sword._Jovey didn't relent, and was able to land one more hit to the man's jaw and two to his gut before he recalled his wits.

Allen recovered far too quickly; his fist connected with Jovey's unprotected stomach, conveying more force than he thought possible.Something that might have been a knee caught his gut, and then a right hook sent him on his back.

"Boss, are you okay?"Somewhere above him Jovey could hear Allen's two crewmen asking about his condition.He moaned, gingerly probing the tender flesh along his jaw.Already it was forming a sizable bruise.

"Can you get that boot off?"

"I will, once we get back," came Allen's response."Celena's more important now."

Jovey forced his eyes open, even thought they showed him nothing but flashing white at first.He willed them to become clear once more.Allen had his back turned and was again heading toward Dilandau, favoring his right leg.Still propped against the tree, Dilandau slept on without stirring.

"Di…landau…sama…."Though he was fatigued and in pain, he pushed himself into a sitting position.The forest swam about him, then cleared to focus on Dilandau once more.

The white-haired boy's face was arranged in a calm expression.Asleep, he took on the visage of a very young child, with his hands resting on his stomach and his legs pulled in close.His lips were slightly parted, as if filled with possibilities and waiting to form some indication of his dreams.Like the delicate innocence of fresh winter snow.

_"He needs us.So please, don't turn you backs on him now."_

Jovey hadn't really understood what Chesta had been trying to say back then.With time he'd acquired that feeling, though--he knew that devotion.Even if he'd never been good enough to join the ranks of Dilandau's favorites, he'd experienced the need that drove them all.This was his master--like a brother he'd pushed them, forcefully, to surpass themselves.He was their motivation and their pride, and they his silent, willing support.The rest were gone now; they had entrusted their duty to him to fulfill.There was no choice but to fight.

Jovey pushed to his feet and charged.He didn't know what he intended to do--something, anything to protect his leader.Allen heard the approach instantly and turned toward him.His arm was moving laterally.Jovey realized an instant too late that the knight had reclaimed his sword.The blade rushed down at him as a blur of flashing steel.Jovey twisted his body to avoid it, but his momentum was too great.His left forearm took the blow: Allen's sword sank diagonally into the muscle, easily cleaving the flesh and stopping only when bone was struck.Jovey had no time to scream--almost instantly the limb went completely numb.

Allen recoiled, only now seeing that he had attacked an unarmed man.Jovey managed only a short, gasping wail as the blade was withdrawn; he dropped to his rear in the dirt.He clasped the wound that was already overflowing with hot life-fluid, and swore between clenched teeth.

Allen stared at him with indecision.Finally he turned to one of the men at his side."Kio, help dress his wound.He'll ride with you back to the castle."

"Bastard…" Jovey hissed, unable to see the man anymore through his tears.He could feel blood staining his fingers, dribbling onto his knee."I…I'm just trying to protect him."

"So am I," he replied softly, somewhere nearby.

"Damnit."

"Calm down, kid," came a new voice, just beside him."I don't have anything to bandage you with, so we'll have to use your shirt.

"You'll have to cut it off," Jovey gasped, "because I can't let go of my arm."

Despite the man's size and gruff appearance, he took great care in his attention to the wounded youth.He cut the already tattered and bloodied fabric away with a knife and tied it into strips."Move your hand," he instructed firmly, and as the boy obeyed he fastened the material around the gored arm.The first layer was quickly saturated crimson.

"Boss."Once they'd finished, Kio turned to his leader.He was seated atop his horse, one arm around Dilandau's middle, who had been situation in front of him."He's in bad shape--it's bleeding a lot.We have to get him to a doctor."

"All right.He'll ride with you."

"C'mon, kid."Kio slung his arm around Jovey's waist and hauled him to his feet.The boy did not protest as he as half carried to the horse and place in its saddle.Already he was feeling dizzy and faint._Dilandau-sama_….He glanced at his master, and was startled to find a pair of crimson eyes on him.

--

Dilandau awoke slowly from vague and confusing dreams.He felt odd--no other word described his condition better.His body ached, not painfully, but in a way that made him aware of his every joint and muscle.To move his limbs would be like blowing on a wad of cotton.But his mind was keen--he kept his eyes closed, listening to the forest sounds, and plotting the scenery in his mind.

He was seated on a horse--a large horse that shifted impatiently beneath him.Seated behind him was Allen, as he could tell by the scent.How he was able to accomplish this recognition was beyond him; all he knew for certain was that the man's hand pressed against his stomach was making him sick.

Somewhere nearby voice alerted his attention; he recognized it, as if it had been pulled from his dreams.The sounds of pain caused his skin to grow hot, and he opened his eyes to view their source.

_That boy…I know him._Dilandau caught the black-haired boy's gaze and held it, trying to make out his identity._He's one of mine.He's one of mine._

Dilandau snatched the reins of his horse and yanked as hard as he could.As it had already grown anxious from the odor of blood the animal reared, neighing in fright.Allen began to slide off, having been too concerned over his captive to monitor his own safety; as he fell, Dilandau snatched his sword handle, unsheathing the metal with a loud hiss."Jovey!"

Jovey quickly caught onto his plan.He kicked Kio in the face and maneuvered his horse alongside his master's; Dilandau leapt easily onto the second beast and spurred it on without hesitation.It snorted, but complied, carrying the two Dragonslayers into the forest.

--

Allen started to climb to his feet, and nearly fell as his leg complained with the sudden stress.Gadeth managed to steady him."Boss, are you--"

"I'm fine," he snapped, as Kio attempted to calm his horse.He stared after the pair and cursed softly."We have to go after them."

"You need to get your leg cleaned," Gadeth insisted."They'll come back--Jovey's in bad shape.They--"

Allen snatched the man's shirt suddenly."Go after them," he ordered."If they come back to the city unsupervised, they'll cause trouble."

Gadeth hesitated only a moment."All right.Kio, take care of the Boss."He remounted his horse and rode off, into the woods.

Allen watched him go with a sigh."Please, find them."

--

Jovey could feel that he was slipping gradually out of consciousness.The woods echoed like a blur around him, and he couldn't make out the words being said in his ear.Abruptly the horse stopped moving, and he was pulled off of it."Come on," Dilandau was saying urgently, helping him along."Come _on_."

"The horse…."Jovey stumbled, and once he righted himself was puzzled to see their mount racing off."Dilandau-sama…?"

"Stay here."Dilandau lowered him to the ground, resting between a pair of thick tree roots.Nearby ferns were twisted and adjusted to cover his existence.And then suddenly Dilandau was gone, having climbed into the tree's branches.

Jovey stayed still--he felt as if he could do nothing else, so weary was he.His quickly fading attention was drawn by the sound of hoof beats, and the soft forest earth trembled as a horse sped past, into the forest.He stared after it curiously._Was that our horse?Why did it leave?_He tried to sit up but fell back, exhausted."Di…Dilan…?"

"I'm here, Jovey," a voice came from above."Go to sleep."


	3. Default Chapter Title

**Worlds of Blue and White**

Part One: With Fingertips Touching

Chapter 7:Lying in Wait

When Jovey regained consciousness he was in an unfamiliar section of woods.He could hear running water nearby--a stream, coming off a small waterfall.He rubbed his eyes with his good hand, then gingerly raised himself to a sitting position.His gaze spun for a moment.

"You're awake."

He started, and glanced about in search of the source."I was getting worried," the voice came again.He looked right, and there discovered Dilandau, perched on a large protruding tree root.The boy's hands were moving over the blade of Allen's sword, polishing it with a piece of fabric ripped from his pants."You've lost a lot of blood, so eat up," he instructed.

Jovey discovered several ripe fruits--melons--set beside him.The husks had been cracked open already, so that he would be able to eat them one-handed.He nodded respectfully before indulging in their sweet flavor.

"I fixed your arm as best as I could," the boy went on."You'll need stiches, probably, but it will hold well enough for now, as long as you don't move much."

"Thank you, sir."His fingers were still numb, but he could see that his wound had been cleaned and dressed with pieces of fresh cloth._His shirt_, he realized._Dilandau-sama…cared this much about me._The thought stirred a strange feeling inside him; like pride, and relief.

Dilanday finished polishing and sheathed the sword."I'm going back into the city," he declared."To take care of something."

Jovey immediately stopped eating."But you can't.The festival has probably started by now."He gestured to the orange hues of sunset fading in the west."Van will be heavily guarded--and Allen will be with him.They'll be expecting you."

Dilandau raised an eyebrow, as if pleased that his former underling had read his intentions so easily."Don't worry about me."He stood, adjusting the weapon on his hip."I can handle Van."Something in his red eyes glinted; Jovey recognized it well."By the way, is your Alseides operational?"

"It should be," Jovey replied quietly."But it will probably be guarded, too.It doesn't have flamethrowers equipped, either, so it'll probably be better to attack Van on foot."He paused."Sir, take me with you.Even though I'm injured, I can still be of some help."

But Dilandau shook his head."You'll stay here.It's up to you to find us a way out of here once I'm through.We'll return to Zaibach, and have your arm fixed by real doctors."

"Then at least wait a little while," Jovey pleaded."Until after the festival at least, and--"

"No."His red eyes sparked, then became unfocused.Were it possible, his face appeared even more pale than usual."I'll end it.The Dragon will be mine, this time.You will do as I say."

Jovey stared, bewildered._His voice…changed somehow.As if he can see something.And though he's always been rash, he wouldn'tusually risk so much, going alone._

There was no choice, really.He bowed his head, trusting in his master's decision."Yes, Dilandau-sama.Good luck."

There was a ruffle of movement, and Jovey glanced up to see Dilandau crouched beside him.He had gained back his clarity, as his gaze was serious and intense."You'll all I have left, Jovey Garrelli," he said quietly."the others are gone.I'lll take good care of you, if you trust me."

"I trust you, Dilandau-sama," he answered immediately."I won't let anything happen to you this time.Please, finish Van.For Chesta, and Gatti, and all the others."

Dilandau's eyes opened a little wider at the mentioning of those names.He nodded shortly."I'm going now.When the time comes, you'll know what to do."

"Yes, sir."

He stood, and moved away.He didn't glance back as he slipped soundlessly into the forest.

--

Van's hands curled around the balcony rail.His eyes only partially absorbed the crowd far below--the festival was in full swing now, and every inch of the streets were packed with the lively people. They danced, sang, and ate happily in blissful celebration.He watched them all, and sighed."Three years," he murmured.When he lowered his head, he felt the crown's weight heavily upon his brow."We came this far in three years."

Standing beside him, Merle watched him with a worrisome expression."He can't take it away again, Van-sama," she voiced his thoughts."Not this time."

"I know.But he will come."Van's gaze swept over the buildings and streets, as if expecting to see flames erupt at any moment."He's out there, waiting.He'll come for me."

"And you'll beat him," she assured."You beat him before no problem, right?You'll do it again."

He nodded vaguely, then glanced over his shoulder.Allen was seated inside at a table, his elbows rest ing on the wood, head bowed and shoulders trembling._This has got to be so hard for him.I can't kill Dilandau--there has to be a way to save Celena from him.But then…dealing with Jovey may be even more difficult._

Merle followed his gaze, and sighed."Allen-san will be okay."

"I know.That's not what I'm worried about.If we're going to defeat Dilandau, we'll have to change him back to Celena."The king sighed."And even if we do, who knows if it'll be permanent?How can we prevent this from happening again?Can Celena live a normal life without being reminded of what she was?"

"She had until now," she pointed out."If she goes home, she'll be okay, won't she?"

"I don't know for sure."Van lifted his head, gazing up at the glowing blue moon which shone above their valley.It's light that evening was splendid, even with the distant sun still clinging to its ownership of the horizon.To him it appeared as an invitation._Hitomi, if only you were here.You would know, wouldn't you?You were always there to help me._

Merle touched his shoulder to gain his attention."She can't help you now," she told him gently."She's living her own lif with her own problems."

"If she would only come back," he murmured, eyes and voice distant with fatigue and emotion. "Just for a moment, so that I could see her once more.Just a moment."His gaze dropped."She could, if she really wanted to.Our feelings…surly they're that strong.But she hasn't tried, even once.She's perfectly happy in her world."

His companion winced sympathetically."Van-sama…."

"Sometimes, I wonder exactly what happened back then," he went on, somewhat subdued."I heard her voice…she told me she loved me…but when it was all over, she left without regrets.As if she'd never considered staying her, with me.

"I know it was the right choice--she belongs in her world, and I here, but…."He closed his eyes, picturing the moment in his mind: her smile, her tears, her farewell."But if only I knew that she felt some remorse they way I do…if she cared for me the way I care for her…."

Van trailed off, and remained silent for some time.Merle could offer him no assurance or consolations.Her tail swayed back and forth helplessly.At long last she began, "Van-sama--"

"It's all right, Merle.I know.Even if I knew, things wouldn't change.So I should be happy--our country has been revived."He smiled at her."Right?"

She sighed in exasperation. "Van-sama, what I was going to say way, why don't you go see her?"

Van's breath caught in his throat, and he turned to face her."What do you mean?" he whispered.

"Go see her," she repeated cheerfully."Just for a short visit, after the festival.I'm sure no one would mind--royalty travels all the time."She grinned with encouragement."So why don't you?To see her again."

"I…."He looked away, as some part of him refused to believe that it could be that easy a solution.Before his mind could rearrange itself well enough to seriously consider her suggestion, a flash of movement in the crowd caught his eye.A moment later, it was gone.

"He's here."The king signaled to his guards; one scampered off to warn the others while the rest circled in close."Merle, get Allen for me."

Merle's ears went limp, distressed that her suggestion had been so easily overturned.She nodded once and left the balcony.A moment later she returned with Allen in tow."You say him?" the knight questioned anxiously.

"Just for a moment."Van set a hand on his sword hilt as they scanned the crowd together."He'll either find a way up here or wait until we're out in the open.Either way, my men have orders to capture, not kill."

Allen nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Van.When he appears, I'll take him myself."

"All right.My men will help only if it's necessary."

Merle frowned thoughtfully."He might not come if you're in plain view like this.Maybe we should move somewhere, to draw him out."

Van was somewhat surprised by her thinking; he would have thought she'd suggest that he hide in an iron safe."You think so?" he tested.

"Well, _I_ certainly wouldn't attack somewhat surrounded by guards and nearly half his kingdom," she declared."If you want to catch him, you have to risk an opening."She crossed her arms."I'm not a knight of a king, but even _I_ know that much."

Allen regarded the cat girl with concern."She's got a point," he murmured."But it's risky.If we misjudge Dilandau's skill, we'll be placing Van in danger."

"I can beat Dilandau," Van assured."My skills haven't diminished at all.I still remember his style.In fact," he added confidently, "It may be best if I fight him.You don't know his style of fighting like I do.I can beat him."

The knight's frown deepened."But I've been training Celena all these years--her improvement is startling, even toi me.I'm not saying that Dilandau will remember any of that consciously, but his body should."He face the king seriously."I'm not exaggerating when I say she has the potential to be as good as I am--she's nearly that skilled already.If you can force a melef match, you should be fine."

Van shook his head."He'd definitely use the Alseides Jovey designed--it's got full flight capability.I don't want to risk him escaping."_He didn't fight me at all--letting me handle Dilandau.But I suppose he wouldn't want to fight his own sister outright._

"You may be right."

The trio paused, considering their options as the guards looked on cautiously.Van absently fingered his pendant as if it could give him an answer.The smooth stone beneath his fingertips calmed him._How much are we willing to risk?That's the real question._His gaze turned to the crowd._He's probably out there, watching.Waiting for us to make a move._

Then he looked at Allen.There had been a time in his life when he'd very much envied the Heaven's Knight: his skill, his confidence, even his looks.Allen had always seemed to be the perfect man, having friends, and loved once who would adore him forever, and the power and elegance to deserve that devotion.An unattainable ideal.

But in looking at the man now, Van saw lines of pain creasing the knight's handsome face.He saw glove-covered fingers that were too tight with strain to be clenched, and trembling shoulders.And he saw his mouth--a pair of lips which held an experience he would be forever jealous of--pressed in a thin, strained line.

_I wonder…did my face ever show that kind of despair so openly?_Van could only stare, somewhat mystified, remembering how Allen had returned from the forest with his injured leg, tangled hair, and swelling bruises._Have I ever seen him this way?Why does it unnerve me so much?_

Allen turned to look at him then, and something in his gaze startled him.He recognized those eyes: they were the same bright, pleading azure eyes that he'd seen in Celena the night before.

_"…honestly believe in yourself…"_

_ _

"I'll take the risk," Van said deftly."I'll stop Dilandau, certainly, and get your sister back."

Allen stared back at him in bewilderment."But how?"

He turned toward the crowd, letting his sight absorb everything he saw._Mypeople…forgive me.This is for your sakes, too._Finally he spotted a tuft of white hair among the stands._Dilandau._The boy stood next to a small car that was selling bread.Even at that distance, Van could feel that he was being carefully studied.He focused all his mind and spirit into his posture and eyes.

_I'm challenging you, Dilandau.Once more, to end it all._

Dilandau's figure stood a little straighter, and the king turned away from the balcony."Come with me," he said loudly, moving inside.

"Wait--what's gong on?" Merle demanded."Van-sama, you never tell me--"

"A duel.I'm going to make it our last."He strode quickly through his chambers, making his way to a hidden palace exit near the building's rear.Allen, Merle, and the guards followed anxiously.The men exchanged worried gazes.

"But where are we going?" the cat girl insisted."How will he know?"

"He' know."

"But…."She turned her questioning stare on Allen, but he didn't notice.His eyes were set forward; his expression in stone.

--

Dilandau slid easily through the crowd, his palms itching._It would be easier to move if I killed a few people_ he thought._The rest would scatter.If they knew who I was, they'd have done so already._But he didn't act.The voice that spoke to him, though of his own tone and an example of his feelings, seemed to echo from some deep cave in his mind.He was detached from it.He felt the hot bodies pressing against him, and smelled the sweat and wine and cooking pastries, but the sensations were sluggish in reaching his brain.His body and his mind had distanced from each other.

_It doesn't matter as long as I kill him._

He knew where Van was going--hero types like him always thought with sentiment.The site for their battle would be the shrine where Escaflowne slept.During the festival it would be empty, and large enough for a proper fight.Even if the place meant little to the leader of the Dragonslayers, he would go.To taste his enemy's blood, to reduce him to ashes, hew would go.

Dilandau reached the shrine before his prey.Quickly he moved inside, checking their battleground for the most suitable location.His boots--stolen from a farm house near the city's outskirts, as the shoes he'd had on previously were too small--clacked loudly in the open space.At last he positioned himself just to the west of the shrine's skylight, in hopes of gaining the advantage of the rising moon.There, he waited.His sword he held out and ready, his eyes focused on the shrine's only entrance.

--

Just after the sun had set Jovey grew restless.He began to pace, then stopped, as it was making him dizzy.Desperate for some activity he began fashioning his belt into a kind of sling for his arm._I still can't feel my fingers,_ he thought with a concerned frown._The nerves may have been completely severed.I'll probably regain some feeling eventually, but…._He sighed._Of course he left me behind.I'd just get in the way like this.But wouldn't he have waited?He was vomiting blood earlier._

Jovey took to his feet once more."There's something wrong with him," he murmured as he moved aimlessly about the clearing."His body…I'm sure when he was Celena he had a woman's body.But how?"_Why would they do that to him, rather than simply kill him?It doesn't make sense._

Unwillingly, visions of Celena entered Jovey's mind.He remembered the first time he'd met her, her eyes gaping as she viewed the guymelefs.She had spoken to him innocently, like a child, but with passion and knowledge.In her eyes he'd seen the same spirit that was Dilandau's most guarded secret: a love of living, and loyalty.And even fear.

Celena…is she gone now?Was she ever real?Or…was she part of Dilandau, the part of himself he always hid from us?

Jovey sat down on a nearby tree root to think.Again impatience overtook him, and he stood._I can't just sit here.Whatever happened…it's still Dilandau-sama.I won't fail him again._Quickly, he started toward the city.

**Worlds of Blue and White**

Part One: With Fingertips Touching

Chapter 8:Pushing Limits

Van knew that his opponent was already inside.He could feel his skin prickling with the familiar presence, and suppressed a wave of anger._You can't lose yourself in this fight,_ he told himself firmly._Allen and Celena are depending on you.Focus on that._He took a deep breath and unsheathed his sword before entering the shrine.

Allen, Merle, and several guards followed. No one spoke, caught up in the tension of the upcoming battle.The interior of the shrine was dark except for streams of dull blue moonlight from the glass ceiling.And standing calmly in the center of that light, sword drawn and eyes gleaming was Dilandau Albatou.

"You certainly took your time," the white-haired youth declared, tapping the blade against his calm."But I suppose as royalty you're entitled to that."

Van shed the outermost layers of his garb, leaving only the green trousers and short-sleeved cotton shirt.He stepped boldly into the circle of light."I will fight you," he said evenly."And win.Then you'll be able to find yourself."

He snorted."Sure, whatever.Just come on already."Dilandau slid into a readied stance."I've been looking forward to a good match."

Van hesitated uncertainly._That's one of Dilandau's old stances--there's a diagonal line across his body left open._He recalled what Allen had told him earlier._But I'll have to assume that he's as good as Allen now.I can't underestimate him._

The guards shifted nervously behind him.Van didn't risk a glance."Don't try to interfere," he instructed."Even if I'm killed, I'm sure Allen Shezar will avenge me."

Dilandau grinned widely in approval of such an outcome."Well said, Van Fanel."Suddenly he charged, striking vertically.Van shifted his weight and blocked.Their blades clashed and slid until they were struggling hilt to hilt.

_He's strong._Van allowed his sight to flicker to his opponent's eyes--a mistake.In those crimson orbs he discovered a deep, violent hunger; a hatred so pure that it was joy.They reminded him of the flashing, ancient eyes of the Dragons he'd fought in the past.

They broke apart.Immediately Dilandau attacked again, with even more force than in their last exchange.Van was pushed back a step before regaining his position.They fought back and forth, broke, then met once more.By then Dilandau had begun to laugh.It was a harsh, mad sound, like the screeching of melef gears.The king's skin prickled as he listened--it was making him nervous.

They broke once more, and Dilandau spun, clearly intending a counter attack.But something happened then that Van didn't expect.As his enemy came back around, his sword was gone from his right hand.The king faltered, and leapt backwards as a left-handed stab came at him._When did he…?_The jump wasn't enough, and the tip of the sword bit into the base of his right shoulder.Dilandau laughed menacingly as Van stumbled and retreated.

"Van-sama!"

Van ignored Merle's distressed cry.He pressed his hand gingerly to the wound--it was only an inch deep, thanks to his quick movement, but it made his right arm sluggish.He adjusted his grip and stance._Damn; he's nearly as good with his left hand as his right._

"Van!"This time it was Allen.The tone in his voice was all Van needed to comprehend: that move had been taught to Dilandau by Celena's memories._Which means he might have more tricks up his sleeve.Come on; concentrate._He looked back to Dilandau, expecting to need a defense prepare, and was startled to see the youth fastidiously licking the kings blood from his sword tip.

_Has…has he lost his mind?_Dilandau lowered himself into a new stance and cackled._He's not even taunting anymore.He's gone mad._Van shivered beneath the youth's dangerous glare._He's going to kill you,_ his brain whispered._He won't stop until he has.Isn't there any way to save Celena now?_

"Celena!Stop this!" Allen shouted abruptly from behind.Dilandau didn't even flinch."You don't have any reason to kill Van--he's your friend!Don't let Dilandau fool you!"

Dilandau was in motion before Allen had even stopped speaking.The fight resume din a flurry of flashing steel.Though Van managed to score a hit down his opponent's left thigh, the wound didn't seem to hamper his movements at all, as if he didn't feel the pain.The king felt himself being pushed slowly back._What is this?He's strength is inhuman!_

At last Allen dove into the fray.He pushed Van aside and blocked Dilandau's attack with one smooth motion, separating the two.Dilandau stepped to the side, as if intending to ignore him and continue the duel.But the knight wouldn't allow it; he kept his body positioned between tehp air and defended against every blow.

"Allen, this won't work," Van said breathlessly."I have to finish this.She's too far gone to reason with now."

"No.You don't know her like I do."Allen forced the king back several steps as their opponant took a moment to catch his breath.He sheathed his sword.

"Allen, you can't--"

"Celena."Despite Van's warning, he stood tall and faced what had been his sister."I know you can hear me.I won't fight you--you're my sister."

Dilandau glared at him, grip shifting over his sword's handle.His eyes were glazed with incomprehension like those of a beast.

The knight closed his eyes and held his hands palm upward in a symbol of trust."I know you don't want to fight me," he continued softly."I won't fight you.No one will blame you, if only you'll come back to us."

The youth shifted, still glowering dangerously.His lips pulled back in a snarl.He charged, raising his sword for an attack that would end the man's life.

Allen's eyes snapped open as the blade came rushing forward.Just before it hit his hand shot out, grasping the sword above its hilt.He didn't wince as it slit through his glove and the leathery skin of his palm.Dilandau hadn't expected the strategy; his weapon was torn from his grip and cast away. In the next instant he found himself bound in the knight's arms; his own limbs were pinned to his sides, rendered immobile.Enraged, the boy thrashed and screamed madly.

"Celena, I know you're still in there," Allen murmured, holding Dilandau's pinned against his chest."Please, come back to me."

Van watched, stunned, as Dilandau continued to rage and struggle._He's like a demon.Not even Dilandau was ever this bad.What happened?_The white-haired boy lurched forward, biting at the front of Allen's shirt as if intending to tear into his heart.Unconciously Van raised a hand to his pendant and whispered a quiet prayer.

Nearly a full minute passed without signs of the insanity letting up.Allen did not move or speak despite Dilandau's screaming and clawing.At long last, the shrieking became a wail, and then a weary, despairing moan.The flailing body went slack in its captor's arms.And then, very slowly, the knight lowered them both to their knees.

Van signaled for the guards to step back, then came forward with Merle at his side.He tried to get a better view while still maintaining some distance."Allen?"

"It's all right now," the man said quietly.He motioned for Merle to assist him."Please, hold her a moment."

Merle only moved once Van signaled that it was all right.She approached cautiously, cradling the limp body as Allen removed his blue vest and then his white shirt."Hey," the cat girl said abruptly."She's a girl again."Van sighed in relief, though carefully averted his eyes.

"Yes, thank God."Allen dressed his sister in his shirt, and then replaced his blue vest.Van pretended not to notice as he dried his eyes on the back of his clean glove."Let's get her out of here right away."

"Where do you want to go?" Van asked.

He didn't answer for a moment."Balsm.The _Crusade_'s already prepared, and I want to get help for her as soon as possible."He hefted the girl into his arms.

Van nodded in understanding. "Yes, that's best."He sheathed his sword, and allowed Merle to begin bandaging his wounded shoulder."Thank you, Allen, for your help."

"I should be thanking you."Allen nodded respectfully."Now please, excuse us.I'll trust you to take care of Jovey Garrelli."He turned and slowly exited the shrine, holding his sister tightly to him.

Van sighed, and glanced at his cat companion."Come one, Merle.Let's get back to the festival before we're missed."

--

_So this was the place._Jovey stood before the large stone monument, his fingers brushing its rough surface._The grave of Goau Fanel, former king of Fanelia._He took in the sight of it then turned, surveyeing the grassy clearing it overlooked._And this place; the last place on Gaea touched by the girl from the Phantom Moon._His thoughts wandered inward, calling out those deep memories.Only a few short months after the Great War he'd come to this place, to challenge Van as he sat in prayer before his father's tomb.

_"All right.But not here--this place is too sacred for me, and I don't want blood spilled."_

_Three years since that time._Jovey dug his toe into the soil, remembering how it had felt when he'd first come here, ready to die.He looked at the stone, recalling the different times he'd come here, to spit on the ground his enemy worshipped. Even if some of that bitterness had ended, he could never bring himself to forgive.He regretted having not come soon enough to meet his fate--he'd wanted to meet the girl.

_Kanzaki Hitomi.The girl from the Phantom Moon._Jovey swept the clearing, as if he could determine exactly which spot of earth had held her last.Because he could still remember standing in the Emperor's chamber, trembling on his knees with fear and fever.The words left depressions in his brain like aged footprints.

"The girl from the Phantom Moon…the origin of the Dragon Clan of Atlantis…she is the key to reaching it.The purpose of the Dragonslayers--your purpose--is to kill dragons.If you so desperately wish to help your master, fulfill both your destinies."

Jovey continued on toward the city.I can't do whatever it was that Dornkirk-sama meant, he thought, being careful of his arm as he walked.The girl is gone--I can't get to her now.But we can still kill dragons.

The festival had reached its peak--Jovey had no trouble avoiding the guards with so many people around to act as cover.Where would they have gone?I doubt Dilandau-sama would have simply attacked from stealth.This is an important match for him--he would have chosen a suitable location.The Yards, the Shrine, some room in the palace?If have no idea where they might be.

Jovey ruled out the possibility of the palace--there were too many guards to interfere.He decided to check the Yards, where the guymelef matches were held; after all, why risk the temple, where Van could call on Escaflowne?He weaved his way through the crowds of people, avoiding those that might recognize him.Already the noise was making him faint.Some time later he reached the sports arena, only to find it filled with more celebration.

Damn, not here.But…where?When he started to leave his limbs trembled weakly, and he lowered himself onto a nearby bench.His gaze began to swim; he closed his eyes until the dizziness had passed.I've lost too much blood.I can't move so much.Several deep breaths seemed to rememdy his fatigue.Damn.Damnit.

"Excuse me, son.Are you all right?"A woman was seated beside him, her face one of thoughtful concern. "You look awfully pale."

"Thanks for your concern," he replied, covering his wounded arm so that she wouldn't notice the few bloodstains that had leaked through Dilandau's shirt."I…was just hoping to see the king.I've been everywhere, and I'm a bit tired."

"His majesty just returned to the square," she told him pleasantly."I was there a moment ago."

What?Then…Dilandau-sama never found him?He wouldn't have taken this long."Thank you, Ma'am.I'll look there."

"Take care."

Jovey nodded, and managed to push himself up without the ill-ease returning.I'll have to be careful.He traveled back to the center square, controlling his pace so that he would get there quickly without over-exerting himself.They must have met by now.But if Van has already rejoined the festival, that means--

He noticed then that several people had lifted their gazes upward, and were pointed.He looked, squinting against the night's full compliment of stars.He could see only a dim outline moving slowly toward the bordering mountains.Like an airship.

No.No, he couldn't have.

Jovey stood there, transfixed, trying not to comprehend.If Van won, the first thing they'd do would be to take Dilandau-sama away, a still-functioning section of his brain reasoned.To fix whatever it was you undid.To keep you apart.His working hand formed a fist.To seal him away.To deny him his--your--destiny.

Jovey began to move again, this time ignoring his body's warnings.I won't let them.I won't.Not this time.He began to run, even as his head grew light and confused.Not again.Not this time.He pushed people out of his way, seeing only the distant building that was his goal.He was thankful to not be able to feel the pain in his injured arm.

By the time Jovey reached the guymelef hanger he could barely stand, and fresh blood leaked onto his stomach.It's opened again.He took only a moment to tighten the bandages before continuing.If I wait too long, I won't be able to follow.

AS expected, the Alseides was chained to its bench and surrounded by guards.Jovey ducked behind the foot of a builder melef as cover while he planned.I can't sneak past them, and they'd attack the chamber before I'd be able to break those chains.

I'm running out of time.

Jovey rose out of hiding and began to climb the scaffolding to the builder's cockpit.He wasn't sure what he'd do, or if he'd even be able to pilot the unfamiliar model, but he had to act.Moving as quickly as his one arm could function, he pulled himself into the cockpit and fit into the proper harness.

Good.They've noticed me already.He stood from the bench.Though his movements were sluggish with fatigue, the melef obeyed him--with the exception of the left arm.He started toward the Alseides, and the guards readier their weapons; one was even headed for his own melef.Faster.Jovey urged his vehicle forward, the pounding of his feet scattering most of the guards.

Just when he' reached the Alseides's bench, their weapons fired; iron claws latched onto the crevices in the armor and halted the melef.Jovey growled in frustration, swinging his right arm forward.The men holding those chains connected to it were dragged through the dust.They can't stop me.I have to escape.

The hand of the builder melef closed around the Alseides's bonds, and Jovey pulled, ripping through the metal.He continued to tear chains off his guymelef, even as another machine was swiftly approaching on his left--his unguarded side.He cursed, and opened the cockpit.

"Jovey Garrelli!" one of the guards shouted, holding his sword at ready."You're surrounded, and immobilized!Surrender or we'll take you by force!"

No one takes a Dragonslayer.With a deep breath Jovey leapt out of the cockpit.He landed with a thud and a clang on the Alseides's thigh; his head spun crazily at the sudden impact.Stubbornly he climbed to his feet and dashed for the melef chamber.

"Follow him!Hurry!"

"Get those chains on the Alsiedes!"

Jovey was just fast enough.He clamored ungracefully into the Alseides's chamber before the guards could reach him, and checked his pressure gauges.It's a good thing I've kept it so well, he thought with a grim smile as liquid metal poured from the Alseides's hands and formed three sharpened claws.He made short work of the rest of the chains and scattered the guards with minimal effort.Because their melef-capturing devices had already been wasted on the builder, all that was left was the approaching melef itself--the soldier inside attacked.Jovey struggled beneath the man's staff; the muscles in his arm were going sore with the constant strain.He managed to parry the weapon aside long enough to engage the Alseides's flight mechanism.

I'm coming.I'm coming.

The guymelef sprang into the air, locking its legs together in preparation.The engines bellowed and propelled the iron beast upward, over the heads of its pursuers, carrying it to and through the wooden-beam ceiling.

All right.Now, after him.Jovey swung the armor about, trying to locate any sign of the departing vessel.After a moment his sights targeted a blurred shadow that was moving steadily southward.There.That's it.He gritted his teeth and began the chase.

*To those of you that care, the move Dilandau used in fighting Van I stole from Jin'e.=^-^=

**Worlds of Blue and White**

Part One: With Fingertips Touching

Chapter 9:

*note: yes, she's supposed to be acting this way*

She was aware that she had regained consciousness.This realization had not come easily; for hours it seemed her mind had been drifting, and she was slow to determine whether these sensations were real or fantasy.She saw herself, twisting through the air, without balance or destination.She was flowing through a stream of images--memories, she realized, returning to her.They washed over and through her, awakening senses and visions she had never thought possible.It was if she had discovered a part of herself she'd never known existed: it brushed against her fingertips, just out of reach, soft but desperately hot.It burned, even, but she didn't recoil.These things were too precious to her.

Slowly, the phantoms faded into veracity.Her thoughts, once turbulent and confused, ordered themselves without effort.She was lying in bed on her back, her wrists and ankles securely tied.Simply rope.The sheets covering her were damp with her sweat--had the heat from her dreams affected her body even now?--and they reeked.Her left thigh also stung, bound in cloth.

There was someone else in the room.He also smelled of sweat and blood, and of something else--something softer.It was a man seated beside her, and she was calmed by the fact that his presence was not a hostile one.He would not hurt her, and therefore would not interfere.

She tested the bindings on her wrists--the knots were tight but not too constricting.She would be able to undo them with time, if needed.Her leg would be the more potent problem.

"Celena?Can you hear me?"

It was the sweet-smelling man that had spoken.She didn't move or react as her brain attempted to generate a definition to the unfamiliar word "Celena."Carefully, she opened her eyes.

The man was watching her; she recognized his blonde hair and slender face, somehow.He was indeed no threat.He even appeared concerned."Celena?" he questioned once more.

_Celena?Oh, yes, my name.I'd forgotten._Celena returned his inquisitive, hopeful gaze with blank seriousness._And this is my brother._Her faint memory provided her with his name."Allen?"

Allen sighed with relief and rubbed his eyes."Oh God, Celena, are you all right?What do you remember?"

"I was fighting the Dragon," she replied, gazing about to map her surroundings.It was her room on the _Crusade_, she recognized finally.When she realized that Allen probably didn't know what she meant, she added, "King Van.And you stopped me, and I fell unconscious."

Allen was staring at her with a dreadful expression.She couldn't be sure what that meant, so she kept her tone neutral, unobtrusive."By the way, where is he?"

The knight stood out of his chair, with movements that were hesitant, as if he faced a beast."No, it can't be," he murmured distantly."You can't still be Dilandau."

_Dilandau?No, that's not my true name.It was called that once.But I've always been Celena._"No, Allen, it's Celena," she told him softly."Calm down--you're not making sense."

"Why?" he asked abruptly."Do you remember why you were fighting Van?"

"Of course.He's a Dragon."His face paled another shade, and she considered changing her tactics.It wouldn't help to upset him."Allen, please don't get worked up.No one wants to see you like that.I'm all right, so you don't need to worry.Would you please untie my legs?They're beginning to throb."

Allen started.He glanced at the bindings indecisively."Celena, do you remember?" he barely spoke."What you were?Dilandau…?"

_Dilandau Albatou.That was a name I was once called.It was a good name, but I'm Celena.I have always been Celena._"I remember my life as Dilandau Albatou, the leader of the Zaibach Dragonslayers.You shouldn't have hid it from me, Allen.I feel much better now."She spoke only truth."Now please untie me--it hurts."

"Celena…."The man hesitated a moment more, then gave in.He began to untie the knots around her ankles."I'm sorry--I didn't want to do this, but Gadeth and Van agreed it was best.We didn't want…you to hurt yourself."

"That's fine.I understand."Celena stretched her legs once they were free, and winced only a bit at the pain.Soon her hands were also released.She rubbed her sore wrists."Thank you, Allen.That's much better."

Allen sunk heavily into the chair at her bedside.He wet his lips and asked, "So, you remember it all now?"

"Yes.Everything."She cast the sheets aside to check how her body was faring.Her injured thigh had been cleaned and bandaged, and she was dressed in her blue pants and one of Allen's white shirts.It was an acceptable condition.The gentle hum of airship engines confirmed her location."We're leaving Fanelia."

Her brother stumbled over a response. "Yes.We thought it best, as being here was…unhealthy for you."His expression grew increasingly more grim."But you remember now.I…I'm sorry I never told you.I was afraid that it would hurt you--Dilandau's past is so awful--or worse, that you'd…."He trailed off with a grimace.

"That I'd become him," she finished for him.

"Well--yes."Allen gazed at her then, in such a way that made her feel a very profound sense of pity for him.He looked like a lost, confused little boy; he wanted to understand what was happening to the most important person in his life.And somehow, that only made her despise him, for hiding her memories from her.She remembered them now--those that had loved and honored her, with blind, obedient devotion.They understood her better than he ever would.

"Allen, I'm not going to 'turn into' Dilandau Albatou," Celena told him gently, as if she were speaking to a child."Just because I remember that life doesn't mean I prefer it.Everything that he once had is gone now.I have always been, and will stay as, Celena."

As she'd expected, the knight moved to the bed and embraced her fiercely.She accepted his affection silently, allowing his arms to tremble around her.She found it both flattering and frightening that he depended so fully on her well-being.A few misplaced words could have destroyed him.

"Allen, calm down.I'm all right, see?"Celena urged him back and smiled in a way that she hoped was encouraging.It seemed to comfort him."But would you mind leaving me alone for a while?I'd like to get changed and think things through by myself."

Allen nodded slightly."Are you sure you'll be all right?Your leg…."

"It's fine."She stretched and bent the limb as proof."See?I'm fine, so why don't you check on the others, and get some rest?You look exhausted."

"Yes, I suppose."He stood wearily and gaze down at her fondly."My room is next to yours, so call me if you need anything."

"Of course.Don't worry--I'll be just fine."

Finally, the knight kissed her briefly on the cheek and departed.Celena released a sigh.As she'd said, she changed into a new, clean outfit: dark trousers and a white vest, with a loose-fitting, short cut coat to cover her bare arms.She then selected a sword off her closet rack and hooked it to her belt.As an afterthought she also retrieved two small daggers that fit into her boots.

_As soon as we've landed, I'll steal a ship and go back._Celena paced the room once, testing how much weight could be placed on the limb._I can still fight like this,_ she mused._It was close, last time, before Allen interfered.Next time I'll have to take care of him before we start.I can't have him ruining things._She wouldn't kill him--he was her brother, after all--but he would be a nuisance if he couldn't be dealt with.

Celena flopped back onto the bed and folded her hands on her stomach.She pictured Van, and motions of his body as he fought.Now that her body was female she wouldn't be able to use her weight as an advantage--speed would be a better tactic.Speed, and fire.

_Yes.Burn the Dragons, as he burned yours._

When Celena closed her eyes shed could picture the scene in her mind: blue fire, and blood, and voices screaming.She saw Chesta, even if she couldn't possibly have seen him through the guymelef's armor, his face twisted in horrified agony.Little Chesta with the kind, restless heart hadn't deserved such a fate.He had always taken care of her.

She saw shy Guimel with the hair he was teased for; Miguel, impulsive and rash; Dallet, arrogant and careless; and Viole, quiet but resourceful.And she saw Gatti, older brother to all of them despite his young age.She had depended on his level, clear head more times than pride would allow a person to admit.All of them were in her eyes and ears now with a clarity that startled and grieved her.They were no longer in her world.She did not regret her actions toward them; only that she had led them to death too soon.She had no doubts that, had it not been for that day, they would all be at her side now.

If only I had gotten that girl.I would show the Dragon that suffering, and burn him as he wept.All Dragons must burn for their evil.

Celena sat up and gazed about the room once more.Could she escape without Allen and the others realizing?The Crusade had no spare ships to escape from; she would have to steal Sherazarde.But then, that would require someone to launch it first.She would have to wait until they landed after all.

I'll escape, and go back.Jovey will find me.We'll drink the Dragon's blood together.

Her eye caught something then--her mirror on the far side of the room.She stood and crossed to it slowly.Her reflection stared back at her: a beautiful, healthy face with shining sapphire eyes and thick silver hair.She had once taken great pride in her looks--as a child it had meant everything.Her mother had stressed it to her every day during their most difficult times: beauty was the trait of a Shezar.Her mother Enchia had wanted to use that beauty to cover the shame her husband's departure had left, to make them appear confident and strong once more.The world would never see them grieve.What it saw was to be only a family of flawless elegance; a trio of perfect porcelain dolls.

Even as Dilandau she had been proud of her looks, as they were the only part of her not tainted by the sorcerers.She remembered those last days before the operation: sobbing as her hair was cut, begging and praying that she would still be her mother's beautiful child once the torture had ended.They granted her that much, to preserve her sanity.

Van had ruined that.He would most likely never realize how deeply his blade had scarred her.With one slight action he'd taken the bit of Celena that kept Dilandau routed in place, slowly transforming her into something obsessive and mad.The true identity Dilandau never knew he had had been thrown into chaos and uncertainty, and Celena's original form had risen to comfort and reassure the battered psyche.But the scars were already laid deep, and her descent continued.At last an element had been introduced that both Dilandau and Celena trusted--Jajuka--to reconnect the broken bond between them.Allen had completed that task.He gave her something to run to.He made her a Shezar once more.

Celena banished those thoughts with a wave of her hand, but her reflection was still there, staring back at her with quiet, unobtrusive eyes.She laughed at it softly.This wasn't the face of a Shezar anymore--these lips had smiled at the thought of blood; these eyes had witnessed the death of hundreds; these ears had listen with glee to the sounds of her throat's own curses and mockery.She despised that sickening, worthless beauty.The Shezar name had been a curse to keep her from this, her true destiny.

To kill Dragons was her destiny.She hadn't inherited it; it wasn't passed down by a god she didn't believe in; it was given to her, specifically, and she'd accepted it.This fate belonged to her, more so than the life of blind heroism forced upon her brother.Now was her time to face it.

Celena removed one of the daggers from her boots, while the other hand began to father her locks of thick silver hair into a bundle.A quick movement sheared what she'd once adored.Then she looked to her face.I was still a Shezar face.She raised the blade slowly, deliberately, and pressed its tip into her cheek, just below her eye.The muscles twitched as blood dribbled from them.With careful precision she drew the weapon down, opening the wound along the side of her face.She barely felt any pain.Then she cleaned and replaced the dagger, and surveyed her work.The scar would be a bit longer than its predecessor, stretching all the way to her chin, but it didn't bleed too much.She washed the incision and applied some medicine--after all, she didn't want an infection.

There.Celena would have smiled but the movement would only aggravate the wound.So she only snorted in approval, admiring the hideous blemish.

There was a knock on the door, and she strode swiftly to twist the lock."Celena?"A moment later the knob was tried."Celena, it's Allen.Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Allen," she assured as she backed away from the door.She didn't want him to see her yet, as he would be shocked.

"Why is the door locked?"

"I was cleaning up.I didn't want any of the men disturbing me."She'd heard the strain in his voice, and she asked, "What's the matter?"

Allen hesitated."There's a guymelef chasing us," he admitted at last."I want you to come up to the bridge where you'll be safe."

A guymelef?Only an Alseides can follow airships.A mysterious feeling of pride mixed with relief spread through her chest, and she ran to her room's only window--it was more of a porthole.She could see only dark sky, however, as her window faced starboard.

"Celena?Open the door."

"Just a minute, Allen; I'm not fully dressed."Celena pulled the sheets off her bed and returned to the window.She twisted the window open and began to shove the sheet out.I'm here, Jovey.She twisted the last corner around her hand to keep the sheet from being pulled out by the wind.Find me.

Jovey struggled to adjust his course once more.Piloting the Alseides in flight mode with only one arm had proved to be a trying challenge.Several times he'd been forced to lose altitude in correcting his path.After the long pursuit he was ready to collapse from exhaustion; his body ached beneath a layer of sweat.The salt stung his far-focused eyes.His lift side and part of his thigh were also colored dark with bloodstains; the loss of so much fluid continued to stain his sight with blurring fatigue.He fought against his body's weaknesses.His goal lay ahead--the Crusade, floating lazily on the southbound breeze.He had almost caught it.

But he was also aware of another in this race: behind him, Escaflowne was gaining.He wasn't sure how or for how long Van had taken up the pursuit, but that didn't matter anyway.If Van caught him, it would be over.This thought spurred him on.

Finally Jovey had positioned himself just below the Crusade's slender belly--he dared not attempt to land on its top for fear of battling whatever guymelef may be on board.Spotting Dilandau's room was--thankfully--a simple task, as a white sheet had been hung out of the window.Thank God; he must be all right."Dilandau-sama!" he called though the Alseides's amplifier."Get away from the window!"

Jovey flipped the Alseides onto its back and formed a single cylindrical claw.He bit his lip in concentration as he maneuvered it toward the glass circle, piercing it and ripping out several wooden planks.When an opening had been enlarged enough for Dilandau's slight form, he retracted the claw and instead formed--with some difficulty--a rounded coup shape that he held up against the hull.

The Crusade began to turn away, lengthening a gap between it and the guymelef.Jovey cursed and carefully followed the retreat.There's no time for this--Van's almost here.If only I could use my left arm!He positioned the bowl once more."Dilandau-sama, hurry!"

At last Jovey spotted the youth clamoring out of the splintered opening.He sighed openly in relief at his apparent well-being.Dilandau leapt gracefully into the cup-shaped metal; a pair of arms tried to follow him without success.Once settled, he signaled that all was well.

Yes. Thank God--thank God.Jovey began to steer carefully away from the Crusade.We'll land--Dilandau-sama can pilot the Alseides, and I…

Jovey's sight began to fade, and he gasped, trying to regain his senses.I…I can't keep this up.But if I pass out now, the Alseides….

"Jovey!"Van's voice echoed from above, where Escaflowne in its dragon form hovered at ready."You have to land!If you don't willingly, I'll force you!And you know I won't be as careful about Dilandau's safety as Allen is!"

"I won't give him up to you!" he hollered back even as he felt his right arm trembling with fatigue.How can we escape?If Dilandau-sama and I traded, he would be able to think of something.But…oh God, how can we get out of here?

"Jovey, pull me in!"This was Dilandau, calling from the metal bowl.He quickly obeyed, bending his arm so that his leader would be directly beside the pilot chamber."You have to land!" Dilandau shouted over the shrieking wind."I'll take your place--do it quickly!"

Jovey could barely hear the youth's voice; it sounded distant and strange to his failing ears.No--no, please.He looked left and saw Escaflowne descending to his level.The Crusade had lost altitude as well, preparing for when they would land.He could just barely see the outline of what must have been Allen's guymelef waiting to be launched.How could they escape Van Fanel and Allen Shezar, the two greatest guymelef pilots in Gaea?The thought caused his weariness to rise even higher, dragging him down.

"Jovey!"He could hear Dilandau calling his name desperately--they were falling.Escaflowne was following, and the Crusade.They didn't seem to realize that he'd lost control.The melef controls sounded a frightful warning that only barely registered in his dulling brain.

I want Dilandau-sama to fulfill his destiny.Even if I die, that's all that matters.Someone, please, take us away from here.To our destiny.

Somewhere above, Escaflowne's jeweled heart began to glow.Jovey closed his eyes as he felt his body consumed in flaring white heat.The last thing he remembered was a feeling of strange weightlessness, and his eyelids flashed red as some bright light echoed through them.

End Part 1


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